


Desperate Man

by robinasnyder



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M, Season 8, depowered!Lucifer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 21:50:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 47,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinasnyder/pseuds/robinasnyder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer loses all his powers and Sam decides that someone has to punish Lucifer for his crimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [octopifer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopifer/gifts).



Lucifer hissed when the crop hit his shoulder. He was always surprised how much it hurts. His nerves were new and extra sensitive even months in. It didn’t get any better no matter what gets done to him. He’d at least hoped to be numb by now, or to have killed some of the nerves. But either Sam was very careful for Lucifer was not so lucky.

He hissed again at the gentle prodding with the end of the crop. It doesn’t actually hurt, but Lucifer realized he’d messed up. Sam didn’t like it when he makes noise. Lucifer knew why too. It was too human. It was easier for Sam to punish Lucifer for the pain he’d caused them if Lucifer wasn’t human. But Lucifer felt pain and he felt starvation and he felt dehydration. The look on his face the day Sam realized he could count Lucifer’s ribs would have been comical if Lucifer hadn’t been so desperate for water right then that he would have licked the ground if Sam told him there was moisture there.

So now Lucifer got food and water. He fixed it himself. Secretly Lucifer sort of liked cooking. It made sense to him and there was something thoroughly pleasing to something deep inside Lucifer to have to struggle to make something that he used to be able to create with barely a thought. The effort made it worth it.

“Lucifer,” Sam said in a warning tone.

“Apologies,” Lucifer said. His voice was strong, always. He still had some shreds of pride. Not much. Lucifer would basically let Sam do anything to him to make it hurt less, and the self hatred Lucifer felt for that knowledge was almost as strong as when he’d first been thrown into the cage, when he wished he’d never asked the damn question in the first place.

“You’re learning,” Sam said.

“I do my best,” Lucifer said. He gripped the table’s edge a little harder. The crop smacked across his buttocks, but the blow is lessened by his jeans. Lucifer risked a glance at Sam, turning so he could look under his arm. Sam had bent down and was looking at Lucifer. Lucifer blushed and jerked his head back into position.

Sam’s chuckle made Lucifer shiver. It was not a good sign. Even though the smack on his buttocks had been playful compared to the other hits that did not mean that Lucifer was allowed to take liberties. Bitterly Lucifer wondered how his little army of demons would stare if they could see him now, no better than a human. He was supposed to lead The End. Instead he was living in a warehouse, if he could call it living.

“You’re forgetting yourself, Lucifer,” Sam said.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” Lucifer said. He didn’t even grit his teeth anymore through apologies. They came easily. That didn’t mean that Lucifer didn’t feel his neck get hot when he said he was sorry. He wasn’t, but he would be.

The crop slipped down Lucifer’s buttocks. “Spread,” Sam said. Lucifer complied but he was gritting his teeth now in preparation for pain. The crop slipped between his legs but there was nothing sexy about it. Lucifer stared down at his knuckles, white for how hard he gripped. The crop pulled away from his skin. Now Lucifer had to wait. He hated the weight. He couldn’t even hear Sam, not over his own breathing, which had already sped up.

He didn’t know how long he was waiting. It seemed like forever. It had hurt in the cage, but what really killed him was the loneliness where before there had always been love and companionship and the cold where before there had been such warmth. In his depowered form pain meant a lot more than it did when he still had his grace. 

He closed his eyes closed tight and a whimper escaped his lips before he knew it was coming. He heard the chuckled behind him and nearly jumped. He kept himself still because he didn’t want the punishment to be worse.

“Open your eyes, Lucifer,” Sam said. Lucifer did was he was instructed, nearly expecting for Sam to be looking at him, but Sam wasn’t. Sam just knew, because Lucifer had done this every time this particular punishment was doled out since the first time.

The hit came very suddenly. Lucifer let out a sharp cry of pain. He couldn’t stop it, just like he couldn’t stop the stinging in his eyes. The crop came up a second time almost instantly, snapping against Lucifer’s genitals again. Even with the pants in the way, the hit hurt badly. The cry of pain came out as soon as the blow landed. Lucifer took his hand off the table, which he knew he wasn’t allowed to do, in order to muffle the next sound he knew would come.

But Sam didn’t hit him again, not instantly. His genitals throbbed and Lucifer wanted to go lie down and try to sleep. It would still hurt when he woke up, but it would hurt less. But his punishment wasn’t over yet. He knew his shoulders were shaking. It was the anticipation of pain and the effort of staying upright. But Lucifer knew what would happen if he allowed himself to drop to his knees.

The third blow wasn’t a surprise. Lucifer had been waiting for it. But it hurt, and Lucifer was glad that he’d muffled the sound. He figured Sam would be less angry at him for breaking the rules than for making loud noises. Lucifer lowered his hand only when the end of the crop touched the back of his knee.

“Do you think that’s enough for now?” Sam asked. “Have you learned your lesson.”

“Yes, Sam. I’ve learned. I won’t do it again,” Lucifer said. And he wouldn’t Lucifer made new mistakes but he rarely made old ones.

“Sam?” Sam asked and the crop slipped up from Lucifer’s knee up along his thigh toward his throbbing genitals.

“Sir, I mean Sir,” Lucifer said in a panic. It suddenly felt difficult to breath and the tears he’d kept at bay before suddenly fell. But this was from shame. “Please, please, Sir, just please. I won’t do it again, just please.”

It was the begging. It was always the begging that did Lucifer in. It did Sam in too, to an extent. Sam would always stop when Lucifer begging. In fact he never stopped until Lucifer begged. For all the pain and all the sounds of pain that Lucifer was ashamed of, it was always the moments when fear overtook Lucifer and he panicked. It was the fear in his chest and the words on his lips and the way his voice always, always cracked.

“Very well,” Sam said. He moved around Lucifer, placing the crop on the table. “You’re doing better. You’re learning, anyway.”

“I try,” Lucifer said quietly. He didn’t turn his head away anymore, because Sam got mad when he did. But Sam never looked at him when he realized Lucifer was crying. Lucifer’s tears made Sam uncomfortable. They were even more human than the noises of pain.

“I won’t be back for a few days,” Sam said. “I bought enough food for you.”

“Are you hunting again?” Lucifer asked. He didn’t know if he was hopeful or not. He didn’t look at Sam, so he didn’t know if Sam gave him a disapproving look or not.

“Amelia’s dad’s coming over to see the new house,” Sam said. There was pride in his voice, and fear.

“Congratulations,” Lucifer said. He meant it. Really, he did. It still surprised Lucifer how much Sam had been able to get away from Lucifer’s original intent for him.

“Shut up,” Sam hissed. Lucifer braced himself for another blow. But a gentle hand rested on his shoulder. Lucifer flinched like he’d been hit. He hated the gentle touches the most. If Lucifer had been anyone else he only would have receive gentle touches, if Sam touched him at all.

“Sorry,” Lucifer said.

“Go rest,” Sam said, urging Lucifer over to his cot. The warehouse had a small kitchenette and a shower and bathroom along with a few boxes that Sam kept medical supplies in and a few clothes for Lucifer.

Lucifer did as he was told. He limped carefully to his cot, lying on his least injured side. He couldn’t stop the whimpers that came from his mouth as he settled himself out. But Sam wasn’t listening. He’d already left and was locking up. He kept everything tightly locked and boarded up since the three times Lucifer had tried to escape. Lucifer knew better than to try to escape now.

Lucifer meant to close his eyes but his eyes rested on the gold band on his hand, Nick’s wedding ring. He’d never taken it off because Lucifer had understood Nick, the man who’d lost everything. Lucifer understood him very well now: the desperate man who’d lost his entire life and all of his dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

Lucifer did not jump up when he heard the door unlock the next time. He was just hungry was all. It had been a day since he’d run out of food was all. That was why he rushed to Sam when he came in laden with grocery bags, a lot of grocery bags.

“Couldn’t you have made a second trip?” Lucifer asked, grabbing two handfuls of bags and dragging them to the kitchenette. He didn’t look out to the light. He’d be blinded and wouldn’t get a view of the outdoors anyway. And if Sam caught him he’d be punished. 

“I have to make a second trip,” Sam said.

“I could help,” Lucifer offered too quickly. The glare Sam gave him told him that.

“You’ll stay in here and start putting the groceries away.”

“Okay,” Lucifer said, bending down and starting to find frozen things to put away. His face lit up when he found the ice cream. Sam normally only left that when he thought Lucifer had been very good. That thought made Lucifer frown as he put the carton away. He frowned ever more when he found the brown cows. Lucifer hadn’t been particularly good the last time he’d seen Sam, and Sam hadn’t been gone too long after the food ran out.

Lucifer began to put everything away, feeling more and more anxious as they cabinets and refrigerator filled up. When he realized that he was having trouble finding space for food and Sam had just brought another similarly large arm load and gone back out, Lucifer started to panic.

He gripped the counter, trying to force himself to breath. He was doing a very bad job of it when Sam rolled in a mini fridge, a big one with a freezer section. He stood still while Sam set the fridge up, eyeing the machine distrustfully.

“Are you going somewhere, Sam?” Lucifer asked. He didn’t even think to wince when his voice cracked. It was better than the cage. It was better because there was food and he did get to interact with someone occasionally, even if it hurt. He kept telling himself that.

“Yeah,” Sam said, straightening up. He didn’t look mad at Lucifer calling him his name. He looked guilty. Lucifer suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe at all. He tried to take in breaths, but it didn’t seem like he was getting in any air at all so he breathed faster, trying to get in something. His vision started to get dark.

Suddenly strong arms were around him, holding him up. Lucifer didn’t know when Sam came over, but Sam was saying something that sounded like “stop,” and “take a deep breath”. Lucifer did as he was told, not wanting to risk punishment. To his surprise the rush of hair calmed his panic and he suddenly found he could breath. He took big, long gulps of air, letting himself relax from the sheer beauty of it. Sam’s arms tightened on him, making Lucifer realize just how much he’d relaxed.

“What happened?” Lucifer asked, straightening up. He pulled away, but Sam kept his hands on Lucifer’s waist like to hold him up.

“You started to hyper ventilate,” Sam said.

“I did what?” Lucifer asked, knitting his brows together. He knew it from Nick’s memories, hyper ventilating led to fainting. Lucifer didn’t faint. He pulled away from Sam and held his head high.

“You were like, having a panic attack,” Sam said.

“No, I was not,” Lucifer said, incensed at the accusation.

“Okay, so you weren’t panicking,” Sam said, exasperated.

“I was not panicking, why would I?” Lucifer demanded. He stiffened when Sam’s hands found his shoulders.

“Dean came back,” Sam said.

Lucifer’s brows knit together. Human expression had started to come much more naturally to him, though it always had, more so than most of his angel brethren. He had guessed that something had happened to Dean Winchester from the way Sam never mentioned him.

“Where was he?” Lucifer asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Sam said. “He’s back and I’m going to go see him tomorrow. I won’t be back for a while.”

“Sam,” Lucifer said. His throat felt tight. Sam’s fingers tightened on Lucifer’s shoulders. Lucifer hated him for it. He was dependant on Sam Winchester for everything. Sam brought his food, made certain that there was running water in this place. He was the only one that Lucifer ever saw.

“I’ll be back, but I bought you enough food to last for a couple of months,” Sam said. “And I got your something else. Hold on. Just unpack the rest. I’ll be right back.”

Lucifer thought about not doing it. He felt a petty anger in his chest. Sam could leave whenever he wanted. He could leave and never come back and Lucifer would just end up dead for that. But Lucifer couldn’t go anywhere.

But Lucifer did start loading the other cold things into the mini fridge. That, at least, cleared up those foods. He started to ponder where he could hide the dry foods when Sam came back in. He had two books, monster sized books in his hands.

Lucifer’s eyes got a bit wide at the sight. Sam never let him have anything more than what he needed to survive. Sam must have really been feeling guilty. Which meant he’d be gone for a really long time.

Sam dropped the books into Lucifer’s hands. War and Peace and Anna Karenina. Lucifer doubted Sam picked them because he thought Lucifer would like them, more that they were so long that they’d probably keep Lucifer busy for longer. Lucifer was thankful for it. It might be easier to have behemoths to reread than to have to reread the same two pulp pieces of shit over and over.

“Thank you,” Lucifer said, surprised by the genuine emotion he heard in his own voice. He was grateful. They were ratty and beaten and Sam had probably spent five dollars on them, but it meant that Lucifer wouldn’t be completely alone for however long Sam would be away. It surprised him how much it meant something to Lucifer. “I’ll take care of them, I promise,” he added. He didn’t want to give Sam any reason to take them away.

Sam looked thoroughly taken aback. Lucifer didn’t display happiness. He didn’t smile, but he was smiling now. He had to fight not to stroke the worn out covers or hug the books to his chest. No one had ever given him anything before. Lucifer had worked hard to keep the clothes Sam gave him nice, even though they came from a thrift store and smelled of cigarettes even now. But this was different. There was little function to the books.

“Don’t mention it,” Sam said in a way that made Lucifer certain that Sam really didn’t want hi mto bring it up ever again.

Lucifer nodded and took them to his cot, lying them down before going back to the grocery bags. He didn’t wish Sam would leave, but he was itching to begin to read. He’d picked up a few novels when he still had his grace. The company of demons only went so far and honestly Nick had been quiet a reader when he’d still been in Lucifer. Lucifer had been curious as to what Nick saw in it. He thought maybe he’d understand it a little better now.

Sam moved to help Lucifer rearrange things in the cabinets to get everything in. He ended up having to arrange things in the counters because there really wasn’t room for everything. Lucifer wasn’t happy when they finished. Neither was Sam. They turned and stared at each other for a moment when they were done.

“Did things go well with Amelia’s father?” Lucifer asked. He was curious. He tried to gain information where he could, not that Sam told him much.

“Don’t,” Sam said, getting mad. “Just don’t. Don’t act like we’re on the same level, because we are not. Don’t act so familiar.”

Lucifer didn’t lower his gaze. He kept his voice strong as always. “Yes, sir,” he said simply.

“I’ll be back in a few months,” Sam said. He didn’t say anything else. He turned and walked out. Lucifer didn’t look at the door as it shut in case Sam saw. He just listened to the sound of the door being chained back closed.

He was alone again, in the near dark. He was hungry too. He went for one of the brown cows, wanting the sweet cool. The warehouse got very uncomfortable during the day because of the heat. Lucifer was not looking forward to it getting cooler, though. He didn’t go to his books, knowing it would be better to cook dinner. But the brown cow came first.


	3. Chapter 3

Lucifer did run to the door the next time he hears it about to open. It turned out Tolstoy is not the best companion for loneliness. There was only just so many times that Lucifer can read about Anna throwing herself in front of a train before even he was ready to chuck the book across the room and not go pick it up again. Even he would admit that he was desperate for Sam when Sam showed up.

“Back up,” Sam growled. “I thought I thought you better than this.”

“Can I help?” Lucifer asked, eyeing the bags on Sam’s arms. Lucifer hadn’t run out of food, but he was down to a few cans of soup left and some crackers. He was almost as desperate for fresh food as he was desperate for Sam to be there.

Sam looked at Lucifer like he’d lost his mind, but Lucifer took as many bags off Sam’s arms as he could. He was already taking them to the kitchenette before Sam could say anything. Sam didn’t say anything, though. He put the bags down and Lucifer started to try and put things away. Then he saw Sam heading to get bags from the car. Lucifer followed after Sam, getting all the way to the open door before Sam turned around and glared at him.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Helping you get bags from the car,” Lucifer said, his voice derisive to keep from being desperate. He didn’t want Sam to leave at all, let alone be out of his sight. Lucifer had been by himself long enough. It wasn’t like the cage even, because Lucifer figured out then that he’d be waiting for millions of years before he’d be able to get out. He knew how to wait. It was different when Sam could come any day and Lucifer could see the sun leaking through old boarded up windows and he could feel the nip in the air of the warehouse as the seasons changed. He was too close to everything. It made his isolation worse somehow.

“No, you’re going to stay here and unpack the groceries,” Sam said, turning and going outside.

“But I can help,” Lucifer said. He followed Sam out. He really would have only gotten the groceries, but that hardly mattered. He hadn’t been outside for months, he didn’t even know how long, but the feel of clean, outside air, crisp from the coolness of fall went straight to Lucifer’s head. The glimpse of a world of color from where the trees were changing color was shocking. Lucifer sucked in a breath. It quickly slammed out of his lungs when Sam’s arm pressed against his neck, pinning him to the open door.

“How dare you,” Sam said quietly. Lucifer knew to be afraid. He knew. But his eyes were on the clear blue sky the feeling on sunshine on his skin. He soaked it in because he didn’t know when he’d see it again. He lived in a dark world that he hadn’t even realized was as dark as it was.

Sam grabbed Lucifer’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet. Sam looked different too in the daylight. The metal door Lucifer was pressed into was warm from the sun beating on it despite the cool air. Lucifer couldn’t focus on Sam for long, though, his gaze moving past Sam to the trees again.

Sam let out a sound of disgust and pushed Lucifer back inside. He shut the door behind him and Lucifer tried not to whimper. He wanted to be back outside. He had one wild moment where he wondered if he got down on his knees and begged if Sam would let him out again. Lucifer shook that thought off. He stood straighter and held his head high. When Sam loosened his grip Lucifer went back to the groceries and started to put them away.

Lucifer knew Sam watched him for a few moments before he tried to get the rest of the groceries again. Lucifer heard the door open, but he didn’t try to turn around and look outside. He put away the frozen foods first, then the perishables. He wondered when he saw the ice cream if Sam would try and take it back because of what just happened. Lucifer made certain the ice cream was tucked in the back of the freezer before Sam came back in.

Neither Sam nor Lucifer spoke while they put the food away. It was just the same amount as Sam’s last visit. Lucifer thought that he would rather beg than have Sam be gone for so long again. But he didn’t do anything but the task that was laid in front of him.

“I got your something else while I was gone,” Sam said.

“Really?” Lucifer asked.

“Yes, but I’m not certain that you deserve it, all things considered.”

“Please-” Lucifer started.

“No, shut up,” Sam said. Lucifer closed his mouth. “This is my fault. I’ve left you alone for too long.” Lucifer couldn’t help the hope that crawled into his chest. Would Sam stay longer? Or maybe he’d come back sooner next time. “You’ve had time to forget.”

“Forget what?” Lucifer asked.

“Take off your shirt, go lay on your cot,” Sam said.

Lucifer had trouble swallowing down his bitterness. He stood there and glared at Sam for a minute. He’d only been trying to help. He would have done anything to keep Sam close for another minute. He wouldn’t have acted like that if Sam hadn’t been gone for so long. 

“Lucifer,” Sam said as a warning. Lucifer pulled his shirt off and walked to his cot. He folded his shirt carefully and hung it over the chair Lucifer used as a nightstand. Lucifer stretched out face down on the cot and buried his head in the pillow.

“Ready,” Lucifer said.

Lucifer could hear Sam’s heavy footsteps. Lucifer shivered a bit, but from cold. At least that’s what he told himself it was. It had been months since he’d been punished for anything. His memories had started to become hazy and he couldn’t exactly remember what the pain felt like, but he wasn’t ready to experience it again.

He heard the sound of a belt being unbuckled and tensed. He hated the belt. It always left nasty welts in places he had trouble reaching. Lucifer snuggled into his ratty pillow like it would bring some comfort, because it did. It was his.

“I didn’t plan to punish you,” Sam said. He sounded sorry. “I’m not certain what got into you. I even hate to do this.”

“You were gone a long time,” Lucifer said.

“Then I’ll try to come back sooner,” Sam said. Lucifer hoped he meant it.

The first strike in across Lucifer’s shoulders. He hissed in pain and buried his head deeper into the pillow. Three more strikes came down before Lucifer realized he was getting his pillow wet. Sam didn’t normally give any more strikes than he thought was necessary, but Lucifer hadn’t been in pain in a while and he felt more sensitive than he had the last time. He was very glad that Sam didn’t have the crop this time.

“You’re good at this,” Lucifer said. He wasn’t quite certain what had gotten into him. But he didn’t mind so much. It wasn’t going to last long, but that moment tasted like his old self before he’d been dragged out of the cage. Even his old, constant fighting with Michael had been better than what he was living like in the warehouse.

“You should stop talking,” Sam said. Lucifer didn’t know if was an accident or on purpose but the next strike hit Lucifer’s neck and he let out a sharp, pained sound. He grabbed the spot, which made the ache worse.

“Did you learn from your dad?” Lucifer asked through gritted teeth. He expected and instant smack but it didn’t come.

“Put your hands away, Lucifer. I don’t want to hit them.”

Lucifer did as he was told, chuckling as he did so. Odd to have Sam care now. Lucifer knew, knew that Sam didn’t want to do this. Lucifer wasn’t even certain Sam was mad. He just thought it had to be done. Sam didn’t want to hurt Lucifer more than Lucifer deserved, but he would if Lucifer didn’t hide his hands back under the pillow.

Sam started up again on Lucifer’s back. Lucifer couldn’t stop his pained whimpers or tears, though he could hide both fairly well in his pillow. Sam worked carefully, covering each hit so that no bit of skin was left untouched on Lucifer’s back. But once Sam got to the end he put his belt back on. Lucifer quivered on the bed.

When Sam walked away Lucifer thought Sam wasn’t going to come back and he tried to push himself up. “Just stay down, or you’ll hurt yourself,” he heard Sam from the doorway. The hurt was too new for Lucifer to get up, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try.

He was practically standing when Sam came back. Lucifer’s knees practically gave out, and he sat back on the cot. In Sam’s hands was a huge book, even bigger than the other two Sam and brought. It has hard back and everything.

“Lay down,” Sam said, nudging Lucifer’s knee with his own. Lucifer turned, hissing all the way as he lowered himself back down on his stomach. Lucifer turns his head so he can see Sam, who takes the chair next to his bed.

“What did you get me?”

“Shakespeare,” Sam said. “Everything, all the plays and the sonnets.”

“How much did it cost?” Lucifer asked.

“About five bucks. Found it at a garage sale on my way here,” Sam said. “Did you like the other books.”

“Yes, thank you,” Lucifer said. They didn’t talk much. There was rarely conversation. Sam must really feel guilty. “Have you read them?”

“No,” Sam admitted.

“I figured,” Lucifer said. “And don’t read them. I doubt you’ll like them.”

“Why?” Sam asked, honestly curious.

“Depressing. Did Shakespeare write non-depressing stories?”

“Plays,” Sam said. Lucifer vaguely recalled plots from Nick’s memories. Lucifer knew it was a big deal to humans. “There’s a comedies section.”

“Good then,” Lucifer said. He yawned despite himself.

“Are you tired?” Sam asked.

“Normally be asleep right now,” Lucifer mumbled. He slept a lot and at odd hours. The warehouse had electricity.

“Then rest,” Sam said.

“You’ll leave,” Lucifer said. He didn’t want Sam to leave and so he tried to sit up.

“Stay down,” Sam said, pushing Lucifer down by his aching shoulders. Lucifer hissed but lowered himself back onto the pillows. “I’ll be back sooner.” Lucifer snorted. “I promise, Lucifer, I swear.”

Lucifer turned to look at Sam again. Sam sounded genuine. And though it twisted Lucifer’s sore neck in ways he didn’t like he turned so he could see Sam’s face. He meant it. Sam would try to come back sooner.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Lucifer said clearly. Sam chuckled. His large hand came down on Lucifer’s head. Lucifer expected his head to pull back. He scowled when Sam only tousled his hair.

“You do that,” Sam said, getting up.

“And get me more blankets, it’s cold in here at night,” Lucifer said.

Sam outright laughed. “Alright, alright,” Sam said. He pushed the chair back where it had been next to Lucifer’s cot. Lucifer positioned it fussily. He just liked his meager possessions the way he liked them.

“Is it going well?” Lucifer asked. “With your brother?”

Sam paused. Lucifer could see the tension in his body, though Lucifer couldn’t turn to actually see his face. Lucifer didn’t think he’d get punished for asking or he wouldn’t have asked, though.

“I had a fight with Dean,” Sam said.

“A bad one?” Lucifer asked.

“He was possessed at the time,” Sam said. “He felt bad enough that he didn’t ask where I was going.”

“How are you going to get away again?” Lucifer asked.

“Something will come up,” Sam said. “Don’t worry. I promised, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Lucifer said. He just wasn’t sure it was enough. But he settled back into his pillows. He watched Sam leave. His eyes didn’t even get a chance to adjust to seeing Sam outside before Sam shut the door and Lucifer was alone once more.


	4. Chapter 4

Night time was getting colder and colder. Lucifer had started piling his clean clothes on top of his cot. He’d still be cold, but at least he could sleep. He stirred when he heard the rattling of a car engine. He tensed, wondering if it would be the guys from before, just some stupid high schoolers looking for a place to make out. They’d gotten mad when they hadn’t been able to get in and left. If they did break in Lucifer didn’t know what he would do. Killing them seemed like the best option, except that Lucifer wasn’t certain if he could. He also didn’t know how he’d explain the bodies to Sam when he got back.

Lucifer buried himself more into the blankets, hoping that whoever it was would go away. That didn’t seem to be happening when he heard the chains start to rattled. He tensed, deciding to pretend he wasn’t there. Still, he shifted the blankets so he could see the entrance. He couldn’t see who it was, though, even though his eyes had adjusted to the dark it was too hard to see anything except that the person had opened the door. Lucifer sucked in a breath, seeing the stars.

Lucifer had to squeeze his eyes shut tight when the lights suddenly came in. Whoever it was knew the warehouse.

“Lucifer?”

“Sam?” Lucifer asked, his voice creaking. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to make them adjust. Sam had a few bags in his arms, not a lot, but a few. He walked to the kitchenette and put down the bags.

“It’s freezing in here,” Sam said.

“It gets that way,” Lucifer said, crawling out of bed to go help. He shivered when his bare feet touched the ground, but ignored it. Cold was something Lucifer could deal with. It didn’t make him happy, and he didn’t like it when it interrupted his ability to sleep, but the cage was far, far colder.

“I brought you another blanket,” Sam said, tossing the army blanket at Lucifer who caught it and carried it over to his bed, dumping it.

“Thanks,” Lucifer said. He let Sam deal with the groceries while he rearranged his bed. He didn’t really like sleeping under all his clothes because he tended to knock something on the dirty floor, always. He folded his clothes up and tossed them back in the box he kept them in. Then he smoothed the extra blanket out over his cot.

“You didn’t make it right,” Sam said.

“You never showed me how,” Lucifer pointed out.

“You’re going to blame me?” Sam asked. Lucifer turned to look at him. Sam was off balance, badly. Lucifer wasn’t sure why, but Sam didn’t come at night basically ever.

“Something happened with Dean?”

“Shut up,” Sam said in a low voice.

“Okay, fine, but show me how to make a bed so you won’t complain again.”

Lucifer had to smirk, because he got to stand back and watch Sam make his bed for him. Lucifer was more than a little pleased with himself for that. Sam was apparently really emotionally off balance. He lowered himself onto the bed one he finished and Lucifer sat down next to him.

“Want to talk about it?” Lucifer asked. Sam shot him a look. Lucifer held up his hands like in surrender. “I thought that was what humans did.”

“I got you more books,” Sam said suddenly. Lucifer jumped when Sam suddenly got up and went to get one of the bags he’d bought. It had the name of a chain bookstore across the front which made Lucifer very suspicious. Sam’s devious smile wasn’t helping either.

Lucifer looked into the bag. There were seven books and by their covers they clearly belonged to two different sets. He pulled them out, finding the first books in the sets. He examined the covers, flipped the over and then turned them back. He’d never heard of them before.

“What exactly is…” he squinted at the odd font. “Twilight?” He paused again to look at the other book cover. “Fifty Shades of Grey?”

“Very popular human novels,” Sam said. Lucifer gave Sam a look. Sam was having trouble keeping a straight face. Lucifer didn’t know what Sam had just gotten him that was causing such evil glee. Lucifer would read them, though, because he had nothing else to do.

“How popular?” Lucifer asked suspiciously.

“Amelia had me read them,” Sam said.

“Did you like them?” Lucifer said.

“I thought you’d like them,” Sam said.

Lucifer looked distrustfully down at the books before setting them aside. They were brand new, which was probably the most worrying. And they weren’t that thick. Sam had picked them for a reason. Lucifer decided that he’d rather deal with angry Sam than this Sam. He didn’t know what to do with this Sam.

“Alright,” Lucifer said, putting the books with his other books with no small sense of trepidation. “When will you be back again?”

“I’m not certain,” Sam said, sitting back down. His glee was gone. He seemed tired.

“What happened?”

“Dean,” Sam said like that was enough and for Lucifer it was. Dean did something that hurt Sam. Lucifer felt angry for it. Okay, maybe it was just because Dean is Michael’s vessel, but Lucifer understood very well. He shifted closer to offer comfort. He thought about wrapping his wings around Sam, only to remember that he didn’t have them anymore.

Lucifer sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to push down that thought, like he pushed down most thoughts. They hit him occasionally, it they always made breathing hard. But it was different because he couldn’t walk around like he normally did to clear his mind. Sam was there and Lucifer didn’t know when Sam would come back. He didn’t want to pull away.

A weight settled on Lucifer’s shoulder. He looked over, seeing Sam had rested his head on Lucifer’s shoulder. Lucifer froze, completely unsure. It had been millennia since anyone had given him such affection. And Sam was different, their relationship with different. On the best days Lucifer didn’t know what to think about Sam, but Sam resting against him like that was not in Lucifer’s mind as acceptable.

“Sam?” Lucifer asked.

“I’m tired. I’m just so damn tired,” Sam said.

“Then sleep,” Lucifer said. His heart was hammering in his chest. How was he supposed to deal with this.

He nearly breathed a sigh of relief when Sam pulled away. Then Lucifer realized that Sam was pulling off his shoes. Sam stretched out on the cot that was too small for Lucifer on a good day. Lucifer was pushed to the edge to stay seated on the bed. Lucifer tried to stand but a hand grabbed his and pulled him back down.

“Stay,” Sam said.

“I can’t sit up with you all night,” Lucifer said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. Sam sounded so tired and so small. Lucifer thought of the few, brief visions he’d seen of Sam as boy. He didn’t know what happened to Sam, but it was more than just Dean being mean to Sam. Sam wasn’t just angry, he was sad and worried and scared and happy. Lucifer could suddenly read him like a book, when Sam had been a lot more inscrutable for the past few months (or at least less complex in his emotions). It scared him.

“Then stay,” Sam said. “It’ll be warmer and you’re not wearing pants.”

Lucifer wasn’t wearing pants, just boxers and a cotton tee-shirt and Nick’s ring. “I can put on pants.”

“No, stay,” Sam said. It sounded too much like pleading.

Lucifer sigh and tugged the blankets out from under Sam, or trying to. “Lift your hips,” he grumbled until Sam did as he was told. Then Lucifer crawled on top of Sam and wrapped the blankets around them. It was really the only way they could both fit, and Lucifer was lighter than Sam.

Lucifer was tense for a long time, but Sam’s breathing shifted, becoming deeper. Lucifer watched him sleep for a while. The lights were still one but it was dark enough to sleep. Sam looked peaceful. Lucifer hadn’t seen that Sam in a long time, not since Lucifer could still meet Sam in his dreams, before Lucifer needed to sleep.

Slowly Lucifer drifted off. He was still tired and between Sam and the blankets Lucifer was warm in a way he couldn’t remember being in a long time. When he woke up in the morning Sam was gone, and even the warmth had mostly gone with him.


	5. Chapter 5

Lucifer didn’t know exactly how much time has gone by. He knew he can count his own ribs again. He knew that he found a half finished package of stale saltines two days before and that they tasted better than anything he’d had in all his time as a human. He knew that he’d been through every cabinet and part of the refrigerator and even through every box in the warehouse looking for food since then. He knew that it had been three days before he found the saltines that he’d eaten the last pack of ramen that Sam had left behind. 

Sam left enough food for a month, like the time before, but Lucifer had gotten a bad feeling in his stomach when he woke up to Sam gone and so he’d eaten less. It served him well, or he’d have starved already. He’d been cutting back every day for the seven before he ran out of food. 

Lucifer didn’t pray because nothing came of it. He knew that. His father cared about him only so much as he could keep punishing him. Hadn’t he served his time already? The millennia in the cage the first time and then all that time back again. Did he need to starve death now as a human? Lucifer didn’t know if he even had a soul that could go anywhere. If he did he’d only go back to hell, and in a few hundred years he’d be a demon just like the rest of them. 

The irony was bitter. And he was tired. He got up and walked to the sink. There was still water, at least. It was better than nothing and he felt thirsty more often now. Maybe it was just to give him a reason to move, he didn’t know. He was tired of reading. He knew now why Sam had left him those books: to torture him. He’d read them enough that for a moment Lucifer had actually liked Anastasia Steele. Lucifer was going to blame that one on hunger and never mention it again. 

Not that he’d be likely to get a chance to mention to anyone. He got his glass of water and went back to his cot. It was still winter, and while Lucifer was certain it probably wasn’t as cold as it had been a few weeks ago, it just felt colder. 

He curled up under the army blanket and shivered. Occasionally he sipped his water until the glass was empty. Then he lay down on the cot and curled up in a ball and shivered. He closed his eyes and opened them again when he heard the rattling of an engine. He wasn’t certain if he was hallucinating again or not, but it sounded like the car Sam had months ago, before Dean came back. 

There was the sound of struggle with the chains. Then the sound stopped. Lucifer sighed heavily. He wondered if he screamed for help if someone would come and get him out. But he didn’t want Sam to be mad at him. He snuggled in more to his blanket and closed his eyes again. 

There was a snapping sound and then the sound of chains again before the door slid open. Lucifer had opened his eyes when he heard the snapping. He sat up, expecting Sam. The light was blinding, though, even with the lights on in the warehouse. Lucifer shut his eyes, trying to clear his vision. Then he blinked rapidly to try and get a good look at who it was. 

He dropped his blankets when he saw who it was. Dean Winchester stood there with his gun poised on Lucifer. But he looked surprised too, probably as surprised as Lucifer looked. Oh well, at least the bullet would probably be faster than starving to death. 

“Have you come to kill me?” Lucifer asked. His voice had become more like a grumble. He was tired and weak and he slept more and more. 

“What the hell?” Dean breathed, walking in and getting right up close. He aimed his gun ad Lucifer’s head. Lucifer’s eyes slipped around Dean to the outside world. It was still too bright to really see, but if he was going to die, then why not do something he wanted to in the end? 

“You got anything to eat?” Lucifer heard himself ask. He was surprised, except not really. Food had become everything to him in the past few days. His father had created a cruel world, since Lucifer knew people starved to death all the time. 

“What, yeah,” Dean said, confused. 

“Give me something to eat and I’ll answer any question you have,” Lucifer said. Bartering for his life. Lucifer never thought he’d get to that point. 

“Tell me why I shouldn’t just put a bullet in your head now?” Dean asked. 

“Go ahead, it will be a lot faster.” 

Dean’s eyes were on his face and then he looked down, seeing Lucifer’s now bony arms. He reached out and touched Lucifer’s chest. Lucifer moved away, but only for a moment, the touch was light and it took Lucifer only a second to figure out that Dean Winchester was doing what Lucifer had done many times before: counting his ribs. 

“Stay, I’ll be right back,” Dean said, heading out. Lucifer watched him go. He could see the black car Sam always drove right outside the door. Dean dug around in the front seat for a minute before coming back with a bag. 

Lucifer eyed the bag. He wondered what was in it until Dean dropped it in his lap. There was wrapped sandwich on the inside. Lucifer hated the wrapping, but it was just waxed paper and it was easy to get into. Then Lucifer started to devour the food. 

“Easy,” Dean said, grabbing his hand. Lucifer nearly snarled at him. “Dude, if you eat too fast it’ll all come back up in a minute. Slow down.” 

Lucifer looked at his sandwich and forced himself to take a deep breath and start again, slower. If the Saltines had been the best thing Lucifer had tasted as a human, the sandwich was the best thing Lucifer had ever tasted in his life. It was hard to not try to force it all down quickly. Slowly meant he could enjoy it longer, though, and the bacon and three other types of meat and cheeses and stacks of vegetables were amazing. 

“Good?” Dean asked. Lucifer realized Dean had sat down on the cot next to him. 

“Yes,” Lucifer said and finished the first half of the sandwich. He sucked up the crumbs from the bottom of the wrapper, not wanting to risk being hungry later. 

“Dude, I’ll buy you more,” Dean said. 

“Better to do this than to regret it later,” Lucifer said, starting on the second half. 

“I hear you man, I really do,” Dean said. Lucifer paused and looked at Dean. When he thought about it, it did make sense, especially with the visions he’d seen of young Sam. He’d always focused on Sam, but when he thought about it, Dean was often the one caring for Sam. 

“How often did you father not leave enough for you to eat?” 

“Hey!” Dean snarled. “Don’t talk about shit you don’t know anything about.” 

“So often, enough anyway,” Lucifer said, taking a big bit of the sandwich. He closed his eyes and just savored it as he chewed. How did humans learn to make such good things? 

“Who are you anyway?” Dean asked. 

Lucifer didn’t chew any faster than before, so it took him a minute to get the bite down. “You know who I am,” he said before taking another bite. 

“Bullshit, the devil doesn’t need to eat,” Dean said. Lucifer would have smirked if he hadn’t been chewing. Lucifer took his time chewing and swallowing. Sam would punish him if he took that long, but Dean wasn’t Sam, and Lucifer didn’t care that much about Dean. 

“I didn’t used to,” Lucifer said, looking down at the half eaten sandwich in his hand. “My father saw fit to make it so I needed to.” He took another bite and went back to chewing slowly. 

“Dammit, can’t you eat a little faster?” Dean snapped. He clearly didn’t like to wait for answers. 

When Lucifer finished chewing he smirked. “You told me to go slow,” Lucifer pointed out. “You can just wait until I finish eating. I will answer your questions.” 

He went back to his sandwich. Dean grumbled, but got up to look around. Lucifer did eat faster when he realized that Dean was looking through the boxes of his things. Dean pulled out one of the Fifty Shades books and snorted. 

“Dude, really?” 

“Sam gave it to me,” Lucifer said. He was embarrassed to have them, honestly. He knew that was why Sam had gotten them for him. But Lucifer couldn’t help but watch Dean closely for any sign that Dean would harm the book. Sam had gotten them for Lucifer, and that meant more to Lucifer than even the sandwich Dean handed him earlier. 

Dean put the books down and Lucifer finished his sandwich. He sucked the crumbs out of the bottom of that wrapper as well before dropping the trash in the bag. He set it down on the chair by his bed. Lucifer tugged the army blanket around him again and looked at Dean. 

“Will you answer my questions now?” Dean asked. 

“I said I would,” Lucifer responded. 

“How long have you been here?” Dean asked. 

“I don’t know, what month is it?” 

“February, nearly March,” Dean said. 

“So… it was early spring,” Lucifer said, shrugging. 

“Who put you in here?” 

“Sam.” 

Dean looked a little taken aback. “There’s no way my brother’s been keeping house with the Devil.”

“Does this look like keeping house to you?” Lucifer asked. Dean grimaced a bit. It looked like Lucifer was a prisoner. Lucifer knew exactly what kind of situation he was in. “Is Sam okay?” 

“What do you care?” Dean asked. 

“Is he okay?” Lucifer asked again. 

“He’s fine,” Dean said through gritted teeth. Lucifer didn’t press it, but he could tell Dean was lying. 

“How did you find me?” 

“Got a phone call,” Dean gruffed. 

“From who?” Lucifer asked. That worried him. Who knew he was here? 

“The guy who owns the property. He wanted to know if Sam still wanted it. He was about to turn the water off because he wasn’t being paid.” 

Lucifer went very pale. He’d have been dead a lot faster if the water got turned off. It was like Sam didn’t even care. He felt dizzy again, like there wasn’t enough air in the room. He gulped for it, but it wasn’t coming. 

Strong hands gripped his shoulders. He heard an order “breathe, breathe, slower”. He couldn’t find the air, he couldn’t. He breathed harder and faster but nothing was coming in. One of the hands slapped over his mouth and nose. Now he really wasn’t getting anything in. He tried to get the hand away from his mouth, desperate to get air in. He wasn’t strong enough to pull the hand away, but he clawed at it until the hand pulled away. 

Lucifer took a big gulp of air. His lungs filled and suddenly he could breathe, large breaths. He breathed and breathed until his heart slowed. He was tired, really damn tired. Hi s eyes closed. 

“Do not pass out on me,” he heard Dean say. 

“Tired,” Lucifer said. 

“Wake up, you can sleep later,” Dean said, shaking Lucifer until he opened his eyes and glared at him. 

“Why are you here?” Lucifer demanded. 

“I needed to know what Sam was hiding,” Dean said, glaring right back. 

“Well, now you know. You can go now,” Lucifer said. He was freezing with the door open. He probably wasn’t going to make it much longer. He had no food, no money, and the water was about to shut off. He didn’t even have shoes. 

“You think I’m leaving Satan behind? You must be out of your mind,” Dean said. 

Lucifer glared at him. Dean still had his gun, and he proved it by pulling it out and placing the end between Lucifer’s eyes. It made Lucifer crosseyed. He should be afraid. He didn’t want to be a demon. But if he just went off into nothing it would probably be better than just wasting away. 

“I can’t do anything to you,” Lucifer said. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m starving to death.” 

“Yeah, I noticed,” Dean said. Lucifer moved his head and before Dean moved the gun back, Lucifer could see Dean’s worried expression. 

“Look, either shoot me or leave me alone. I’ll be dead soon either way.” 

Dean lowered his gun, not a lot, it was now aimed at Lucifer’s heart, but Dean was looking at him, really looking at him. Lucifer just looked back. Lucifer felt tired, but Dean looked tired. Lucifer didn’t remember his brother’s vessel looking that tired, but then it had been a few years. Lucifer hadn’t really been able to glean much information except that it had been a few years. He knew it had affected Sam, and that Dean had been gone. But now Dean was back and had a gun trained on his heart. 

“Don’t move,” Dean said. He got up and went back to the car. Lucifer watched him go. But he didn’t move. The sandwich had been something of a blessing and Lucifer was too weak to fight back anyway. Dean came back with a canvas duffle bag, empty, which he dumped in Lucifer’s lap. 

“What’s this for?” Lucifer asked. 

“Packing,” Dean said gruffly. 

“Packing what?” Lucifer asked. 

“Whatever you need. There’s no way I’m leaving you here, not after I had to break the lock to get in. And I’m not just going to shoot you. That would be letting you off too easy.” 

Lucifer smiled bitterly. Dean was going to take him to Sam. Sam was going to be angry and Lucifer was going to be punished. He got up and went to his box of clothes. He didn’t have that many, but he packed them and then his books. They made his bag heavy and mostly full. He dropped it on the cot and folded up the army blanket. He hesitated and then grabbed the pillow, stuffing it in as well. He tried to zip it closed, but he’d apparently done a poor job because he couldn’t.

“You’re hopeless,” Dean grumbled, moving Lucifer out of the way. He pulled everything out and started to repack. “What do you need that ratty pillow for anyway?” 

“Sam gave it to me,” Lucifer said. He took his glass back to the kitchenette and put it away. It seemed wrong not to. He’d kept the warehouse as clean as he could for so long. He didn’t like it there, but it was the first time he’d stayed anywhere that wasn’t the cage. 

“Let’s go, put your shoes on,” Dean said. 

“I don’t have shoes,” Lucifer said. 

Dean was tossing the bag over his shoulder but stopped and stared at Lucifer. 

“What?” Lucifer demanded. 

“Nothing, just nothing, come on,” he said. 

Lucifer didn’t need to be told twice. He followed Dean out. The blast of February air in Lucifer’s face was more than welcome. It was cold, but it was also clear and beautiful outside. The air felt light and Lucifer had a mad idea to run and go to the trees. 

“Get in,” he heard Dean say. Lucifer moved to the front passenger’s seat door. “Not there,” Dean said. 

“Fine,” Lucifer said and went to the back seat. It was better anyway. When he shut the door he stretched out on the back seat and shut his eyes. He was exhausted. The food at helped and he wasn’t hungry at least, but he was still worn out. He heard Dean’s muffled curses as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Lucifer woke up to the sound of loud argument. “Yes Sam, I have Satan asleep in the back seat,” Dean said, on his phone. “Yeah, I know it’s him Sam. I dragged him out of your damn warehouse… were you just going to let him starve to death?” 

Lucifer hissed when car jumped and his head slammed against the door. He reached up, touching the sore spot on his head, covering it really in case there was another jump. He really didn’t want to sit up. He slowly opened his eyes and realized that Dean Winchester was looking at him through the rearview mirror. 

“Sleeping Beauty’s awake. Look, we’ll be back to the batcave in a day or two. It’s not that far away. Just don’t do anything stupid. And call Kevin, see how things are going. Bye.” 

Lucifer sat up, yawning as he did so. He rubbed his eyes with his fist. He was still tired, but it felt better. The movement was slow and confining, but there was something soothing about the constant din of the engine and the rattle and the feeling of movement. Lucifer slid to one side, looking out the window, watching the world blur by. 

“If I roll down the window are you going to stick your head out like a dog?” Dean asked. 

“I rather like my head attached to my shoulder, thank you,” Lucifer said. “Where are we going?” 

“Home,” Dean said. “Look, at least buckle in or something.” 

“I’m not a child.” 

“You’re not wearing shoes,” Dean said like that made any sense at all. 

“Is this some human argument or some reference that I missed?” Lucifer asked, cocking his head to onside. He searched what memories he still had from Nick, but didn’t find a damn thing. 

“Stop doing that.” 

“What?” Lucifer asked, tilting his head a bit more. 

“That, the confused angel head tilt, just stop it,” Dean snarled. 

Lucifer honestly hadn’t been aware of it, but he smirked and did it a little more just to piss Dean off. Dean glared at him from the rearview mirror. Lucifer considered continuing, but tilting his head that much did not agree with his human neck and so he straightened back to normal. 

“I’m hungry,” Lucifer said. 

“You had a sandwich like an hour and half ago,” Dean said. 

“You said that I was starving to death,” Lucifer said. 

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you eavesdropping is wrong?” 

“And you told me that you’d get me more food,” Lucifer said. 

“Dammit,” Dean muttered. Lucifer smiled all too innocently. Annoying Dean Winchester was fun. It was a bit like poking a completely powerless Michael with a stick, except that Dean wasn’t Michael. Because Dean would never abandon Sam, or throw him out, or injure him to do so. 

Lucifer looked back outside, watching the world go by. He loved the world. The earth was beautiful, and perfect, and balanced instrument. Even without his intervention the world would get rid of humanity in retaliation for humanity’s abuse. 

Even with the roads and disgusting little houses and buildings, Lucifer could still see trees and the practically cloudless sky. He’d been locked away for so long that the colors of the outside world had started to dim in his memory. Now they seemed very present. 

It occurred to him that while he’d felt nearly blind when he first got out of the cage the last time, devoid of grace and trapped in a human body, he now felt like he could see fine. He had adjusted. His memories were fading. He knew what he had been able to do and see, but picturing it was harder and that meant that just seeing the blue sky with his human eyes seemed beautiful. 

Dean pulled the car into a drive through. “Got to stop and get you shoes and soon,” Dean muttered. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as they pulled up to the menu. “What do you want?” 

“Ice cream,” Lucifer said automatically. “What?” he asked when he saw Dean was staring, and had actually turned around to do so. 

“You know, it’s funny, because I swear I just heard the devil ask me to buy him ice cream. But I couldn’t have heard that because that would mean I lost my mind.” 

Lucifer scowled. “Shut up, I like ice cream.” 

“Why?” Dean asked, just completely shocked. 

“What do you not like it?”

“Can I take your order?” the voice from the box asked. 

“Yeah, just hold on a moment,” Dean snapped and turned back to Lucifer. “Of course I like it, but weren’t you, I don’t know, stuck in a lack of frozen ice or something?” 

“No,” Lucifer said, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, humans,” he muttered. 

“But Ice cream that’s so...” 

“So what?” 

“Normal!” Dean snapped. 

“Sir, your order?” the voice asked again. 

“Yeah, yeah, just a minute!” Dean snapped again. 

“Is there something wrong with buying ice cream?” Lucifer asked. 

“No,” Dean said. 

“Then I don’t see the problem, you asked me what I wanted.”

Dean glared at Lucifer but Lucifer just stared at him. 

“Sir, if you’re not going to order, I’m afraid you need to get out of the line,” the woman said again. 

“Okay, I need two number ones, with cokes, and throw in a chocolate milkshake, no, two, and those apple fritters,” Dean said. 

“That’ll be 18.50, please drive around.” 

Dean started the car off. He glanced up to see Lucifer smirking. “What?” 

“Just wondering if you do everything disembodied voices tell you to.” 

“Man, do not even start,” Dean snapped. 

Lucifer chuckled. “You rile up very easily. I’m not certain that much anger is healthy.” 

Dean didn’t answer. He’d pulled up to the next window. He handed the woman a card. A few moments later she handed it back with a receipt and Dean drove up to the next window. A bag was handed out of the window to Dean along with a tray holding drinks. Dean thanked the woman and drove into a parking spot. 

Dean turned around and looked at Lucifer for a minute. He was glaring at him, but also considering him. “Dude, get in the front seat. I need to keep an eye on you.” 

“Yes, sir,” Lucifer said in a tone of obvious mocking. Dean scowled, but Lucifer got out and climbed into the front seat. Dean was still scowling when Lucifer got in, but he handed him fries. 

The two of them worked through food. Lucifer decided that he liked what he’d been given. It was a lot more fat than he was used to, but he could see the appeal of an occasional indulgence. Dean seemed less than happy, but Lucifer was very happy, especially with the milkshake, which drew a gasp of pleasure from Lucifer’s lips when he took a sip. It helped that Dean looked completely startled and scandalized. 

“Okay,” Dean said after throwing out the empty bag and coming back to the car. “Let’s get out of here.” 

“Does this place have a toilet?” Lucifer asked. 

“Dude, really?” Dean asked. 

Lucifer shrugged. “I thought you understood that I was practically human.” More than practically. Lucifer had no grace at all. He didn’t think he would be given a soul, but he was human for all intents and purposes. 

“You need shoes to get into the place,” Dean said. “Hold on,” he grumbled. He went to the trunk and came back with a pair of shoes. Lucifer pulled them on. They didn’t fit quiet right, but they were on. “Dude, you have to tie them,” Dean said. 

Dean, with great exasperation, got out and walked to Lucifer’s side of the car. He opened the door and knelt down, grabbing one of Lucifer’s feet. Lucifer stared at Dean curiously, watching him tie the shoes which just were not at all comfortable, but they’d serve for a moment. 

The two of them walked in to the place and Dean pointed him to the bathroom. Lucifer did his business, washed his hands (Sam had told him this was an important step) and came out. 

“Don’t move,” Dean said, going to the bathroom. Lucifer shrugged. If Dean was afraid to be in the same space with him, what did it matter?

Lucifer leaned against one of the counters and looked at the not very full establishment. It wasn’t at all clean, though it had a lot more light than the warehouse had. He watched children run around at his feet out to a play structure. Lucifer remembered a part of Nick’s soul which would cause a stab of pain within Lucifer whenever Lucifer walked passed structure. Nick had dreams to watch his son play on those things. 

Wasted, dead dream. It was sad, really. No one in that place had any idea about the life of the man who Lucifer now wore. No one knew who Lucifer even was. No one knew about Dean or Sam Winchester. That thought made Lucifer more than a little angry. It didn’t matter, because Dean came out at that moment. 

“Let’s go,” Dean said, leading Lucifer out. 

“Did you wash your hands?” Lucifer asked. He had an idea that it would piss Dean off and he wasn’t disappointed. 

“Dude, no,” Dean said, sticking his finger in Lucifer’s face. “Just no.” 

“Whatever you say, sir,” Lucifer said with a smirk. He got back in the front seat. First thing was to take off his shoes and toss them back to back. Dean scowled but started the car and drove out of the parking lot. Lucifer still didn’t know where they were going, but it hardly mattered. It was beautiful outside.


	7. Chapter 7

Lucifer’s happy to be out of the car—Impala, as Dean informed him after their second food stop, a 1967 Chevrolet Impala, which Dean called Baby and talked to like it was a person—because as happy as he was to be out of the warehouse, he did not like being confined in tight, slow moving spaces for two days. He also discovered that he didn’t like motels. He also discovered that reading his way through about seven dime pulp crime novels in the car ride in order to avoid talking to Dean Winchester made Dean Winchester stare at him. 

“It’s not strange,” Lucifer said. 

“The Devil reading Dashiell Hammet isn’t normal,” Dean said, slamming the door of the car—Impala, Dean was very insistent that Lucifer called it-her by her proper title. 

“You find it odd that I can enjoy something you do. It makes you question it.” 

“Would you stop with the mind reading?” Dean snapped. 

A twisted smile curled Lucifer’s lips. “How many times do I have to tell you that I can’t do that? You’re you an easier read than Twilight.” 

“I don’t appreciate being compared to an affront to all things manly,” Dean said. 

“Then stop acting like the main character,” Lucifer said. He said it just to watch Dean get wound up. It was really easy to get Dean. All Lucifer had to do was smile and reference some pop culture thing. Even if it was flattering Dean would get all pissed and twitchy. 

“Take your damn bag,” Dean said, tossing Lucifer the duffle. He caught it but stumbled and took a moment to regain his balance. Eating three solid meals the past two days had helped. He was gaining weight very rapidly, and he didn’t feel as tired as he had before, but he was still weak. It frustrated him to no end. He used to be able to move mountains with the wave of his hand. Now he could barely stay upright when someone tossed something at him. 

Lucifer looked up and realized that Dean was staring at him. And it wasn’t like shock or awe. It was worry. Lucifer felt agitation creep up his spine. “What?” he spat out. 

“I don’t know,” Dean said. His voice was too controlled and he spoke too slow like he was really thinking about his words. “I don’t think, I mean, I never expected you to be so human.” 

Lucifer stiffened at that and then glared. He walked back to his side of the car and loaded his thin paper backs into the bag. He half expected Sam to take them away if he saw them, because Sam hadn’t allowed them. As happy as Lucifer was to be out of the care, he was incredibly anxious. 

“You can’t accuse me of reading your mind and then call me human in the next breath,” Lucifer said. He could be insulted, but it wouldn’t make much of a difference. He had lived with it for months. He was human. He didn’t know if his father was punishing him, or trying to teach him a lesson. But he was at the mercy of the Winchesters. They could do anything to him and he would be too weak to stop them. 

The thought make Lucifer close his eyes and have to take a deep breath. It was reality. He couldn’t change it. He also had what humans would call a survival instinct. His pride didn’t extend enough to keep him from begging or from tears. His body reacted on instinct. He didn’t have the self control not to give in, not in this form. And he had what humans called survival instinct. 

It wouldn’t be so bad if he knew it was just going to be over. Certainly the idea of nothing terrified him, but the idea of being a demon scared him even more. He’d been barred from heaven as an angel. He doubted that if he was given a soul that there would be enough good deeds in the world to earn him a way into Heaven. 

To sleep, per chance to dream, aye there’s the rub 

Lucifer hadn’t expected that line when he found it. And when he did it floored him. That fear of something beyond death. Of course Hamlet was just tired. Lucifer knew very clearly what his death meant. That made it all the more worrying. 

He zipped his bag closed and slung it over his shoulder. “So, where are we?” he asked. 

“Home,” Dean said proudly. Lucifer stared at him for a moment, but nodded. He understood, he did. Lucifer hadn’t had a home for a very long time. He understood that Dean hadn’t either. He knew about the fire and the fleeing to hunt monsters. 

Dean unlocked the door and Lucifer followed him in. It took a full minute before it clicked in his mind where he was. Then he stared at Dean like he’d lost his mind. 

“Sam!” Dean called. He walked further into the Men of Letters bunker of information. Lucifer had hesitated, shock keeping him rooted before he quickly followed after Dean. He didn’t want Sam, the sane one, to think that Lucifer had been trying to find something. It was smarter to stay by Dean. 

“Dean?” Sam called. Lucifer’s breath hitched. Dean stopped and looked back at Lucifer. 

“We’re here, Sam,” Dean said, but he was looking at Lucifer. He dropped his voice. “Dude, breathe.” 

Lucifer took a big gulp of air. He needed it to. The second Sam came around the corner all the air left Lucifer’s lungs. He just looked at Sam and Sam looked at him. Lucifer thought he’d have to remind himself later to thank Dean. 

“You brought him here?” Sam asked, switching his gaze to Dean. Lucifer decided that maybe he shouldn’t thank Dean after all. 

“What else was I going to do?” Dean asked. “Set him up at a motel.” 

“Dean,” Sam said and then lowered his voice. “This is a Men of Letters bunker. The place Abaddon slaughtered the Men of Letters to get to?” 

“And?” Dean asked. 

“Are you really not getting this?” Sam asked. 

“Guy can barely pick up his bag without falling over. I think we’re fine,” Dean said. 

“I’m not that weak, Winchester,” Lucifer hissed. 

“Shut up,” Sam said. Lucifer did just that, shut his mouth and tried not to look guilty. He’d needled Dean the whole trip, but Lucifer forgot that he wasn’t allowed that type of luxury. Sam had been away too long. Lucifer was not looking forward to the re-education. 

“Seriously?” Dean asked, looking at Lucifer. “I tell you shut up like a million times the past two days and it only takes him once, what gives?” 

“Lucifer?” Sam asked. 

“My apologies,” Lucifer said automatically, though he felt his cheeks and neck burn. It was one thing when Sam talked to him like that when they were alone, but Lucifer hadn’t realized how different it would be in front of other people. He was direct though and he looked Sam in the eyes, stood straight when he said it. 

“Damn,” Dean whispered, clearly noting the change. “Sam, we need to talk and soon.” He hefted the bag on his shoulder so it was more comfortable. “Come on, man,” Dean said, clearly looking at Lucifer. Lucifer stayed still, looking at Sam. Dean realized that Lucifer wasn’t following him. “Dude, come on, I want to wash the road off.” 

“Go with him,” Sam said. 

Lucifer followed after Dean. Dean gave a disgusted shake of the head. “Seriously. That whipped already?” he asked. He took Lucifer down one of the corridors to a place where rooms were. “Take this one. Put your stuff away. I’m going to shower. When I’m done you can have it.” 

Lucifer nodded and put his bag down on the bed. Dean left with a disgusted sigh. Lucifer glanced around. It was so much nicer than the warehouse. He unzipped his bag but really wasn’t certain where to start. 

“You should unpack,” Sam said. 

Lucifer jumped, not having expected Sam to be there. He turned and looked at Sam. Sam was leaning against the doorframe. He pushed off with his shoulders and walked over to Lucifer. Lucifer’s vessel was just a bit shorter, but with how much weight Lucifer had lost recently Sam was just so much larger. 

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer said. 

Sam chuckled. “What for?” 

Lucifer felt his face get hot. “In truth, I’m not certain,” he admitted. Sam chuckled more. He was smiling a little and Lucifer was glad. He was afraid Sam would have been angry to see him. 

Sam smile dropped as his gaze trailed up and down Lucifer’s body. Sam reached out his hands and pushed Lucifer’s shirt up. Lucifer froze, feeling Sam’s fingers running over his ribs, counting them like Dean had only a few days ago. 

“You don’t need to apologize,” Sam said. “I was wrong to leave you alone for so long.” 

“It’s fine,” Lucifer said. 

“I thought you said you didn’t lie,” Sam said with a smirk. 

“It’s fine,” Lucifer repeated. If Lucifer was going to die, he’d rather it be because of Sam. So it was fine. 

“Shouldn’t be,” Sam said. 

“You said you needed to punish me,” Lucifer pointed out. “For what I’ve done. People have starved because of me. It’s only fair.” 

Sam nodded. “Since when were you so good at telling me what I needed to hear?” 

“Always,” Lucifer said with a smirk. Sam chuckled again. Lucifer could feel it with how close Sam was standing. He realized that Sam’s hand was still on his ribcage. 

“Don’t tell Dean about what I do to you,” Sam said. 

“I won’t,” Lucifer said. “You’re not a bad person, Sam. Don’t worry.” 

Sam pulled away, looking angry suddenly. “Stop reading my mind.” 

“I told your brother a hundred times. I can’t anymore,” Lucifer tried to explain slowly. 

“Really?” Sam asked. 

“You know I’m human, or as close to it as I can get,” Lucifer said. Of course Sam knew. How could he not? But Sam looked troubled. “You do know, right?” Lucifer asked, sounding unsure. 

“Of course I know,” Sam said suddenly. He pulled away from Lucifer. “Unpack. Dean will make dinner.” 

“Would you like me to?” Lucifer asked. 

“At some point,” Sam said. He paused at the door but only for a moment and then he left. 

Lucifer turned to his task. He tossed his ratty pillow up with the nice ones. He unfolded his blanket and laid it over the foot of his bed, then he found a self and set his books out. His clothes came last. He refolded them and put them away in drawers. 

“Shower’s free,” Dean said from the doorway. Lucifer grabbed his clothes and followed after Dean, leaving his new boots that Dean had bought him half way through the first day by his new bed.


	8. Chapter 8

It turns out that there is actually more than one stall in the shower and that Dean just didn’t want Lucifer around when he was showering. Lucifer didn’t mind. Except for the time that Sam had to actually show him what to do, Lucifer had never showered in front of anyone. Lucifer sets his clothes on a bench and undresses, leaving his dirty clothes behind. There are already towels set out. It seems like a lot of luxury compared to the warehouse. 

Lucifer fiddles with the knobs, turning the heat all the way up. It takes a moment, but the room quickly fills with steam. The shower at the warehouse barely had hot water at all and so he had to turn it all the way up, and Dean had used all the hot water at the motel, so Lucifer had taken a very quick cold shower. But this was far too hot; he could see it before he even touched it. 

Reached around wasn’t the easiest option, but h turned on the cold water. His arm caught a bit of water and he hissed. It wasn’t like the time that he’d dumped the boiling water on his leg, though. The burn had been made worse by the fact that he hadn’t removed his jeans. That was the first time Sam had to punish him for not taking care of himself. 

Lucifer grumbled as he fiddled with the knobs. It took way too long to get a proper temperature. Of course when he did it was glorious. He didn’t know properly hot water could feel that good. He stood under the shower, just feeling the flood of warmth wrap around him. 

He thought of heaven, and its warmth. A very common sadness settled into his chest. He reached for the shampoo and began to wash himself. Sam always remembered to bring some shampoo, but Lucifer generally ran out well before Sam got back. Lucifer was used to just water to scrub off sweat and dirt. A little luxury didn’t hurt, though.

“Lucifer?” Lucifer heard Sam call his name. 

“Yes?” Lucifer asked. He didn’t turn and look. Dean had already chastised him for his lack of modesty when he’d just undressed in front of Dean at the motel. Lucifer didn’t see what it mattered. Bodies were bodies. Clothes were for warmth and protection. It wasn’t like Dean was interested in sex with Lucifer and Lucifer hardly wanted sex with Dean, so Lucifer didn’t see what Dean’s problem was. 

“Dean was wondering if you’d drowned is all.” 

“This shower is significantly more complicated than the one I’m used to,” Lucifer admitted, turning off the water. He was done anyway and he’d clearly taken too long. He pulled back the curtain and went to the bench with the towel. He picked up the towel, starting to try and squeeze the water from his hair. It occurred to him that probably wasn’t the best place to start. He started drying off his arms. 

Lucifer glanced up, realizing that Sam was staring at him. “Is there something you need?” he asked. He nearly had to wince at his own voice. He didn’t know when it happened, but he realized how much he wanted Sam to need him for something, anything. Anything, no matter how horrible, was better than being forgotten again. Dean had done Lucifer a big favor. Lucifer didn’t have to sit alone for a million years this time. 

“You’re not supposed to do that,” Sam said after a moment. His voice sounded strained. 

Lucifer stopped toweling and frowned, wondering how he’d messed up drying himself. “To do what?” 

“Just… this,” Sam said, gesturing to all of Lucifer. Lucifer looked down at himself. He was naked, wet and starting to get a bit cold. He’d get colder faster if he didn’t finish drying soon, but Sam had said he was doing it wrong and he didn’t want to keep doing it wrong. 

“I don’t understand,” Lucifer had to admit after a moment of standing still, uncertain as to how he should carry on. 

“You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?” Sam asked. Lucifer suddenly felt a nasty stab in his stomach. He didn’t know what he’d done, but he really must have messed up. “Look, you don’t just get out of the shower and stand naked in front of people.” 

“Why not?” Lucifer asked. 

“Why not?” Sam asked, his voice going and octave higher than normal. Now Lucifer was really confused. Sam was near panic. 

“I… can’t hurt you, Sam. You know that,” Lucifer said. Sam sounded scared and Lucifer didn’t know why or how to fix it. 

“It’s not,” Sam started but stopped. He took a deep breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Lucifer, you can’t walk around naked.” 

“I’m not going to,” Lucifer said. “I only just got out of the shower.” 

“Yes, but you didn’t have to get out while I was still here,” Sam said, sounding a bit hysterical. 

“I was taking too much time. I didn’t want to make you wait anymore,” Lucifer said. He licked his lips, realizing that he much have made a mistake somewhere. “I don’t understand, though. You’re male. It’s not anything you have not seen. And, like your brother you have no intention of engaging in sex with me. What’s your problem?” Okay, maybe Lucifer was getting annoyed. He was shivering now. He’d stopped toweling and he didn’t know what was wrong, but now he was starting to feel like he’d failed at something very trivial.

“No, of course not!” Sam said hurriedly, his face getting very red. “Why would I want to have sex with you?” 

“You wouldn’t,” Lucifer said. “May I go back to getting dry now?” 

“You didn’t have to stop,” Sam said. “Look, whatever. Dean’s casserole is probably done, just get out when you’re done and dress.” 

“Of course,” Lucifer said. He started to towel himself off as soon as Sam told him he could keep going. He dried his body quickly and towel the wet out of his hair. He squeezed as much water out as he could. Having damp hair annoyed him. Then he got dressed. 

He padded out of the room and down to his bed room. He dropped his dirty clothes off and then went back toward where he’d first seen Sam and Dean. He found a main part of the library, but not what he was looking for. He moved past the shelves quickly until he heard talking. 

“I still don’t understand why he reacts so differently to you.” 

“I don’t know,” Lucifer heard Sam say. “I was his only source of food for a while. Maybe it’s like Stockholm syndrome or something.” 

“Dude, he doesn’t sympathize with your cause. He acts like you’re his commandant or something.” 

“Commandant, Dean?” Sam asked. Lucifer could hear the laughter in his voice. “Have you been studying for the SATs?” 

“Shut up. You know what I mean,” Dean said. 

Lucifer rounded the corner into the kitchen at that moment. It smelled wonderful. Someone had set the table and there was a bowl at an unoccupied space at the table with tomatoes and cucumbers and salad dressing in it. He didn’t sit down though. 

Sam and Dean had stopped talking when he came into the room. He looked between them both, keeping his head up. He remembered seeing demons stare at him and the though looks where different he couldn’t help but smirk. 

“Can I help you with something?” he asked. 

“Sit down,” Dean said. Lucifer glanced at Sam who didn’t look at him, so Lucifer sat down. “See, Sam, that’s what I mean. I tell him to do something and he doesn’t do it, or he looks to you, like he’s looking for permission or something.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking, Dean,” Sam said. “Eat,” he said to Lucifer. Lucifer did as he was told. He was hungry, and he’d missed fresh vegetables, even when they were covered up with oily dressing. 

“Look, you tell him to eat and he does,” Dean said. 

“Has it occurred to you that I’m just hungry?” Lucifer asked. 

“Shut up, Lucifer,” both Sam and Dean said. So Lucifer shut up and ate. 

“I don’t know what you’re accusing me of, Dean,” Sam said. “But I’m not sure I like it.” 

“I’m not accusing you of anything, I’m just saying he’s the devil and he’s following you around like a love sick puppy.” 

Lucifer’s head reeled back and he glared at Dean. He opened his mouth to say something, but Sam beat it to him. 

“Bullshit, Dean. I still don’t know what you’re getting out, but he just doesn’t have any place else to go, you said it yourself. It also turns out that you turn off the grace and the normal human survival instincts kick in.” 

“See, that’s what I mean,” Dean said. “How would you know that?” 

“I did know where he was for a while, Dean. You observe things.” 

“Which doesn’t explain why you had him at all.” 

“He’s Lucifer, why do you think? You’re saying I should have just let him go?” 

“You could have killed him,” Dean said. 

“He’s human, Dean, at least as close as he can get. I couldn’t just kill someone who couldn’t even fight back,” Sam said. 

That made Lucifer’s neck get hot. Sam had dislocated his arm in that fight. Lucifer hadn’t been able to fight back at all, not understand the new human body he was given. The pain had made him pass out. When he woke up he was tied to a chair and his shoulder hurt so bad he’d burst into tears. He hadn’t learned how to just give in at that point, and so the pain had been terrible and his shame had eaten at his stomach until he wanted to vomit. 

“So what, you’ve just been holding onto him?” Dean asked. Neither of the brothers were even looking at Lucifer. He might as well have not been there. They both accepted that he wasn’t a threat. That made Lucifer’s stomach twist with annoyance. 

“No, no, not exactly,” Sam said. His tone started to sound evasive. 

“Sam?” Dean asked. 

“Look, nothing bad, Dean, don’t worry.” 

“Sam.” 

“Come on, Dean, he’s the Devil. I couldn’t just let him go and I could just feed him and let him be on his own. Not after what he did to us, to Mom and to Dad, Ellen, Jo, Bobby.” 

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Dean said. “What the hell did you do that you feel like you have to remind me of everything he did?” 

“I don’t, maybe it was just you bringing him here, buying him shoes and giving him a room. Maybe I thought you forgot and needed reminding.” 

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean said. “Just shut up. You know there’s nothing I could have done. You can’t just go into places without shoes and I couldn’t have just left him their either. You said it yourself. He’s human. You see how thin he still is. I couldn’t leave him and I’m not letting him out of my sight.” 

“You shouldn’t have brought him here,” Sam hissed.

“If not here then where?” Dean asked. “Look, if you want you can have him sleep on the floor in your room if you feel like we need to keep an eye on him at all hours.” 

Sam reeled back a bit like he’d been hit. Lucifer followed the conversation closely. He’d finished his salad and he was still hungry, but he didn’t get up to get a plate of food even though he could see the casserole out and sitting on top of the stove. 

“Jesus, Dean what’s wrong with you?” Sam asked. 

“What’s wrong with me?” Dean asked. “Sam, you were housing the Devil, starving him to death.” 

“Look, you can’t call him the Devil and then get upset about human rights,” Sam said. 

“You did, you are!”

“I know!” Sam stopped. “I know, Dean,” Sam said, trying to sound calmer. He rested a hand on his forehead for a moment before putting it down and just looking down at the table. 

Lucifer wished he wasn’t there. It had nothing to do with what he wanted to here and everything to do with Lucifer not wanting to see Sam look so tired and hurt and defeated. He hadn’t wanted to see what even when Lucifer was at full power. 

“Look,” Dean said, getting up and going to the stove. “Let’s just eat. We can talk about it more later.” 

“Sure, sounds good, Dean,” Sam said. Lucifer wished he could touch Sam, grip his arm, a sign of comfort that Sam had only ever accepted from him when he appeared as Jessica Moore in Sam’s dreams. Lucifer was certain that Sam would truly reject such a touch if he tried it at that moment.


	9. Chapter 9

Lucifer’s eyes slammed open to cacophony. He stumbled out of his room about the time a loud voice proclaimed to all the heavens that he “can’t get no satisfaction”. Lucifer’s steps gained determination as the sound got louder and louder. He rounded the corner in the kitchen to see Dean dancing in the kitchen. The noise seemed to be coming from a radio which had been placed next to the PA system, which was definitely on. 

Lucifer steadfastly ignored the delicious smell of food, making a B-line for the device. He grabbed it and threw it with all his strength on the ground, where it broke. 

“What the hell, man?” Dean asked, positively seething. 

“What in all of my father’s creation was that horrible din?” Lucifer demanded, looking at the busted piece of radio on the floor, which were emitting a few pitiful noises like one who does not yet know that they are dead. 

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam demanded. Lucifer turned to see Sam standing in the door way, bleary eyed and wearing only a tee shirt and boxers. Sam blinked at the scene: Dean fully dressed with a spatula in his hand and pancakes on the stove, Lucifer in only his underwear and Nick’s ring, standing over a broken radio. 

“Your boyfriend broke my radio,” Dean said. Lucifer was reminded of a child tattling to mommy. 

“Good,” Sam said. Lucifer couldn’t help but smirk. 

“Dammit, Sammy. You’re not supposed to be one the Devil’s side.” 

“And you not supposed to blast the Rolling Stones loud enough to raise the dead,” Sam said. 

“Yeah, well, it got you out of bed and I made pancakes,” Dean said. 

“Which you’re burning,” Lucifer pointed out. 

“Son of a bitch!” Dean snapped, turning over the four pancakes that were now completely black on one side. He grumbled as he tossed the ruined ones out and started new one. 

Lucifer was still smirking, but a yawn over took him and he covered his face with his hands, scrubbing his hands over his face to try and clear away some of the exhaustion. His body felt tight and wrong. He rolled his arms up and stretched, letting out happy noises as he felt the kinks work out of his body. He was all the way up on his toes as he stretched up. He moved back down on his feet as he stretched is arms out. His shoulders flared out and he allowed the tension to leave his body. It surprised him how wonderful sleep could feel sometimes. It surprised him how wonderful it felt to wake up. 

Today awake was wonderful, because awake meant the Winchesters and pancakes. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t locked up. Screw the complications and worry. Someone was making him breakfast. He considered hugging Dean for it. He knew it would make Dean worried and angry, which was probably why he considered it for so long. 

He yawned again, covering his mouth with his hand. His eyes flitted around the kitchen until he settled on Sam. “What?” he asked. He realized that Sam was staring at him and probably had been for a while. 

“I never asked, but why do you wear a ring?” Sam asked. 

Lucifer looked down at the plain gold band. There was nothing important about its makeup. It wasn’t of a great quality. But it meant something to someone. He’d seen Sam stare at before, because Lucifer never took it off, but Sam really had not asked before. 

“It’s Nick’s wedding ring,” Lucifer said. 

“You were wearing it when he said yes?” Sam asked. 

Lucifer narrowed his eyes a bit. “No, Nick was in bed when he said yes. He didn’t wear his ring to bed.” Sam looked a bit stunned. “What?” 

“He’s weirded out by the idea that you got dressed in your vessels clothes and not a white suit or something,” Dean said. 

Now Lucifer felt very confused. Yes, a white suit would have looked good. Lucifer supposed he would have picked that for Sam. But white was a color of victory, the end of dirty work. Lucifer needed work clothes.

“Was it a condition, before he said yes?” Sam asked. 

“No, he’d already said yes when he asked. He asked me not to take it off,” Lucifer said. 

“Is he still in there?” Sam asked. 

“No,” Lucifer said. 

“But you still wear it,” Sam said. 

“It’s not my body, Sam. Nick asked me to not take it off. He didn’t ask me for anything else. Why would I take it off?” He didn’t really understand why Sam and Dean both looked so worried. It occurred to him that maybe they’d met other vessels. “I told you I wanted to make you happy. I needed you and I needed Nick. I had no reason to abuse either of you.” 

“You did,” Sam said bitterly. 

“When?” Lucifer demanded. 

“How about hell?” Dean demanded. Both Winchesters had their attention on him, though Lucifer noted that Dean had at least turned the burners off. 

“No,” Lucifer said. 

“No?” Sam asked. Lucifer got an idea of Sam’s panicked, angry tone that he still had residual damage from his time in the Cage. 

“Your friend Castiel did you no favors by taking your body. Adam, at least, that his body to protect him. You were a pure soul, confined in a tight space with the glory of our father’s two most powerful creations. We burned you up because you had no protection and neither I nor Michael could have stopped that.” 

“You didn’t torture me?” Sam asked, not believing.

“I did, but not on purpose. It was like giving you lung cancer with second hand smoke,” Lucifer explained. 

Sam and Dean slipped into silence for a moment. Lucifer’s eyes searched on the food. Dean turned the burners back on and went back to his cooking. Lucifer looked at Sam who went to sit down at the table. He didn’t know what to do. 

“Go get dressed,” Sam said. “Breakfast will be ready soon.” 

Lucifer nodded and left. He slowed his pace, though, once he was out of their view. 

“Do you believe him?” Dean asked. 

“I don’t know, Dean. I really don’t.” Lucifer picked up his pace, not wanting to hear about what his Grace had caused Sam to suffer. It felt like an angel blade to the heart to think of Sam hurting at all, and all the worse because of him. 

Guilt came on Lucifer like a tidal wave dragging him under. Turned out Lucifer’s metaphor about the angel blade reminded him sharply of Gabriel. The look of pain and complete disbelief and fear on Gabriel’s face… that was the worst thing Lucifer had ever done. Gabriel had been planning on killing him, but Lucifer doubted that Gabriel understood what that meant. Lucifer hadn’t understood what killing his brother would mean until then. 

Why else would he have asked Michael to stand down? He wasn’t certain how he could have lived with himself if he’d been the cause of that look on Michael’s face as well. Gabriel hadn’t believed that Lucifer would really kill him. Lucifer wasn’t certain that Gabriel thought he would do it, even when Lucifer did it. 

Lucifer dressed slower than normal, finding jeans and tee shirt. The room was so much warmer than what he was used to sleeping in. He’d shed his shirt in the middle of the night because he’d been too hot. He knew it wasn’t proper to walk around outside in his underwear. If Sam walked around the bunker like that, or if Dean did, Lucifer wouldn’t think it odd. This was their home. It wasn’t Lucifer’s. 

He returned to the kitchen, shoving aside thoughts of Gabriel, room temperatures, and winter. Someone made him food and Lucifer wasn’t going to let anything get in the way or enjoying it. 

When he arrived there was a plate sitting out for him. Sam and Dean were also looking at each other, Mexican Standoff style. Lucifer ignored them and lowered himself into his seat. He’d made pancakes once or twice. Dean had made a really delicious dinner, though, so Lucifer was curious. 

The other two were already eating, in between glaring at each other. Lucifer decided it was either fine to eat or he simply didn’t care. He took a bite, a surprised moan left his lips. He didn’t care except that Sam and Dean were both staring at him. 

“It’s delicious,” Lucifer said, hoping they’d go back to glaring at each other. Dean smirked. 

“Next time I make you food, you don’t get to smash my radio.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t blast Leviathan mating calls into my room next time,” Lucifer said, going back to his pancakes. He let out another happy moan. He’d never made anything that good. He heard Sam chuckle and that made Lucifer smile. The morning was perfect. 

“Sam,” Dean whined. 

“What?” Sam asked, sipping his coffee. He looked tired. Lucifer wondered if he’d been up too late. Lucifer had crashed early the previous night. 

“Aren’t you going to snap at him like he’s a bad dog this time or something?” 

“Why would I do that?” Sam asked. “I agree with him this time.” 

“He just compared to the Stones to monsters having sex,” Dean said with great incredulousness. Lucifer had heard of the Rolling Stones, though he hadn’t stopped to listen or anything. Nick’s memory had that he and his wife Sarah had danced to “Sympathy for the Devil” at their wedding because it pissed of Sarah’s over conservative uncle that neither of them liked. 

“Anything at that volume this early would sound like monsters having sex,” Sam said.

“You know, I’m not certain he’s not a worse influence on you,” Dean said. 

“Dean, shut up,” Sam said. 

“Your magic ordering powers don’t work on me, Sammy. And we still have a case.” 

“He can’t go,” Sam said. 

“You were the one throwing a bitch fit about him being left around dangerous reading material,” Dean said. 

“Yes, but he can’t come,” Sam said. 

“And what happens when he runs off?” Dean demanded. 

“I won’t run off,” Lucifer said instantly. 

“Dean, if he runs off he’s as good as dead anyway. He does have any money and if a demon or an angel catches him it’ll be hell to pay,” Sam explained calmly. It didn’t make Lucifer happy, though. He knew Sam was right, but Lucifer didn’t need Sam laying it out for Dean like that. 

“Sammy,” Dean said. Lucifer could tell he was conceding, whether he wanted to or not. 

“Dean,” Sam said. “You were the one who said that we owe James Frampton. You want us to not go now?” 

“Fine,” Dean said. “But we’re getting him a cell phone with a damn GPS.”


	10. Chapter 10

Lucifer saw Sam and Dean off when they left. He didn’t like it. He did not like being left behind. He didn’t say a word, though. It wouldn’t change Sam’s mind and Lucifer would look pathetic for asking. Logically he knew he’d just be in the way. As a human he had nothing to offer. The Winchesters kept him only because they felt like they needed to keep an eye on him. 

Lucifer was left alone in the Men of Letters bunker. The place was filled with all kind of knowledge and artifacts that he would have destroyed half the world to get his hands on. And it sat open for him to go and take it. 

Instead he found books on vampires and started to read. 

For one, it was nice to read about vampires that didn’t sparkle. For another he didn’t want Sam to come back and see him reading anything that might make Sam suspicious of him. Each book had a checkout part in the back. Lucifer carefully logged his name, the exact time and date he picked up the book and when he put it back. Of course, he doubted Sam would believe him, but eventually he might. 

Lucifer got a phone call from Sam about two days after they left. Lucifer didn’t know how he felt about the cell phone Sam and Dean had taken him out to buy. It was cheap, nothing fancy and very inexpensive, but Lucifer treasured it. Sam and Dean’s multiple numbers had been programmed into it. As long as Lucifer didn’t lose it, he’d always have a way to get in contact with Sam. 

“Hello?” Lucifer asked, like he’d seen in Nick’s memories.

“Lucifer?” he heard over the phone. 

“Sam!” Lucifer said, failing at sounding happy. He was alone, but he wasn’t alone. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Look, there’s a spell to kill witches, but I left the information at the Bunker. I need you to get it for me.” 

“Where is it?” Lucifer asked. He stood up and glanced around. He had no clue where to start. 

“There’s a bookshelf in the war room, we put all the books we got from Bobby there.” 

Lucifer walked quickly away from the library reading room to the war room where he found the bookshelf. “What does it look like?” he asked. 

“I stuff the piece of paper in a leather bound book, it’s like the biggest book on the shelf. It’s about a third of the way through,” Sam said. 

Lucifer balanced the phone on his shoulder, or tried to before he grabbed the book, which was very heavy. “Son of a bitch,” Lucifer hissed when the phone dropped off his shoulder. He took the book over to the map table and put it down before going to retrieve his phone. 

“Lucifer? Lucifer?” he heard Sam’s voice on the phone, sounding agitated. 

“I’m here,” Lucifer said. 

“Are you okay?” Sam asked. Lucifer stopped, realizing it wasn’t agitation in Sam’s voice, but worry. “Lucifer?” He’d taken too long to answer. 

“I’m fine, Sam, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I’ve never heard you curse before.” 

“I dropped the phone,” Lucifer said, feeling embarrassed to have to admit he couldn’t hold onto his phone, when he’d seen both Sam and Dean juggle their phone plus a lot larger load. 

Sam let out a loud sigh. “Oh, okay then. I guess you’ve spent too much time around Dean.” 

“Yes, probably,” Lucifer said. He walked over to the book and started thumbing through the pages. “Do you know where you put the spell?” 

“Between 410 and 411,” Sam said. 

“Found it,” Lucifer said not even a minute later. “Should I read it to you?” 

“Yeah, hold on, let me get a pen so I can write it down,” Sam said. 

Lucifer listened to the sounds of Sam moving around on the other line. This was nice, he thought. It was nice to be able to talk to Sam, to be useful, to talk to Sam and not have to worry about being punished. Maybe if he was helpful now, they wouldn’t worry about leaving him behind. Maybe they would want him to stay. 

“Okay, read it off to me,” Sam said. Lucifer did. He said each part slowly with the directions. It was a little hard to read because of Sam’s handwriting and Sam laughed at him when he misread “Chicken Feet” as “Chicken Beet”. Lucifer so rarely got to hear Sam laugh, that he didn’t even care about the fact that Sam was laughing at him. 

“Is that all?” Lucifer asked once he’d gotten to the end and Sam was certain Lucifer had read everything off correctly. 

“Should be,” Sam said. 

“Sam,” Lucifer said suddenly. “Why didn’t you call Robert Singer, he should know this, and he wouldn’t make mistakes in reading.” Not that Lucifer wanted Sam to not want him, but it didn’t make any sense to him. 

Lucifer realized that Sam wasn’t talking and he knew that he’d messed up. He didn’t make a sound, though. “Bobby’s dead,” Sam said. Sam sounded like the dead one. 

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer said, and he meant it. He’d seen in Sam’s memories how important Robert Singer was to Sam and Dean. “Did I...?

“No,” Sam said, his voice hard. “It was the Leviathans, over a year ago.” 

“What are the Leviathans doing here?” Lucifer demanded sharply. They were supposed to be away. 

“Lucifer,” Sam said. Lucifer realized that he’d overstepped boundaries, a lot of them. Not being locked up had made him forget, having Sam side with him over breakfast made him forget. 

“My apologies,” Lucifer said. 

“We’ll see you when we get back.” And then the line went dead. 

Lucifer sighed and put the phone down. He carefully put the book back in its proper place and went back to the reading room. He knew he couldn’t escape punishment this time. Instead he went back to his original project of trying to gain information so he could be useful. Mostly what he read her already knew, or already should have known, though without his Grace, his memory became decidedly more and more human. 

He continued for three more days to read his books, making food for himself when it was needed and gaining back much needed weight. It was on the third day that Sam and Dean got back. Dean called showers first. 

Sam said nothing to Lucifer when Lucifer went to help unload the car. He said nothing to Lucifer when Lucifer made them dinner. He said nothing to Lucifer about the books he was reading. He just said nothing at all. 

“I don’t know what kind of lover’s spat you two had,” Dean said when Sam was out of the room. “But he’s been in a foul mood for days.” 

Lucifer didn’t say anything. He finished what he was reading, noted the time and put the book away. Then he went to bed. He wasn’t there for long when Sam came in. Lucifer had been about to change, his shirt half way off. When he saw Sam, he lowered his shirt to back on. 

“You’ve forgotten your place,” Sam said. 

Lucifer hated this speech. He looked Sam right in the eyes. There was a moment when his anger reared up. He was Lucifer, heaven’s brightest. Though he hated the tem, he was the Devil. Sam was human, flawed, broken. And Lucifer deflated. At that moment Lucifer was every bit as human and weak all around. 

“I know.” 

“It’s my fault that I didn’t do this sooner, and my fault that I let you get to this point,” Sam said. Lucifer could see that he looked tired. Sam probably just wanted to go to bed, but he had to deal with this. 

“Apologies,” Lucifer said because he didn’t know what else to say. 

“Drop you pants and brace yourself on the bed,” Sam instructed. 

Lucifer’s cheeks flared with color instantly. He knew what was coming. He slowly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants before he allowed them and his underwear to drop around his ankles. He turned away from Sam and bent over, bracing his hands on the bed. 

“You can’t do this again,” Sam said. 

“I won’t,” Lucifer said. 

This position wasn’t the best for actual leverage. But it wasn’t about pain, Lucifer thought as Sam’s rough hand came down on his buttocks. It was about humiliation. Lucifer knew it was humiliating. It wasn’t like getting out the shower and having someone see him. Lucifer didn’t care about that. It was the lack of choice. He couldn’t stop the touch. He couldn’t stop Sam from looking. He couldn’t stop any of it. Lucifer hated being spanked, not as much as he hated the belt, but almost as much. 

The sting didn’t help. Sam got up a good rhythm quickly. Lucifer’s shoulder shook from the pain and the awkward position he was forced into. It didn’t last long, but it was enough. Lucifer stayed down even when he heard Sam start to walk away. 

“I hope I won’t have to remind you again,” Sam said. 

He didn’t wait for Lucifer’s response, just left. Lucifer straightened slowly. His lower back ached from the strain and his buttocks hurt from the spanking. He carefully stripped the rest of the way and crawled into bed. He’d bother with getting dressed in the morning, but he didn’t want any more fabrics touching him than he absolutely needed to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Lucifer woke up very early. He saw the time flashing on his clock. He’d rolled over at some point and the sting of his backside made his eyes jolt open. Sitting up was, to quote Dean, a bitch. It was nearly six in the morning. Maybe Lucifer would have slept in, hell, normally he would have. But there was something he had to know, something that Sam would be very angry about. 

Lucifer got up, wincing and hissing as he tried to move around and find clean clothes in the dark. He tried to remind himself that he’d plummeted millions of miles into the center of the earth once, and then lived in darkness and ice for millennia while he waited for one little boy to be born. But telling himself that didn’t make his ache hurt less, or him shiver less before he could find clothes, or having to bite his tongue to keep from spilling out all the loud expletives he’d learned from Dean Winchester when he knocked his hip and toe into the dresser he’d been trying to avoid. 

Clothes on, toe stubbed, hip bruised, Lucifer shuffled out to the kitchen. It was a long shot, because Dean liked to sleep in. But Lucifer needed time when Sam wasn’t around, and Lucifer liked sleep as much as Dean, and Dean had been the one to make them breakfast the other morning. 

Lucifer moved around the kitchen, making coffee for Dean, and tea for himself. He froze when he heard someone walking around. He silently slipped his tea bag into the cup and started to spoon coffee grounds into the coffee strainer while he waited for the water to heat. 

“What are you doing up?” Dean grumbled. 

“Hoping you’d wake up first,” Lucifer said. “Coffee?” he asked when the kettle started to whistle. He poured water for Dean’s coffee first. Then he poured water for his tea. To his annoyance the entire bag, string, tag and all went into the water. Lucifer fished around for a fork to get the tag out.

“Nice to see you screw up now and then,” Dean said. He moved to the stove, before grabbing the pan from under the counter. “Eggs good?” 

“When will Sam be up?” Lucifer asked. Dean seemed to stiffen a bit. 

“Let him sleep,” Dean said. 

Lucifer nodded and went to get eggs. It surprised him how easily he and Dean moved around the kitchen. Dean called for varying things from the refrigerator, which Lucifer got before starting to make toast, slathering butter and adding cinnamon to it because popping them on a tray into the oven part. 

“You know we have a toaster, right?” 

“I never had one because,” Lucifer said. 

“Well, you need to learn,” Dean said. “Be a normal person, or something.” 

“Or something,” Lucifer said. He leaned against the counter and watched Dean work as he started bacon cooking. “Dean, if I ask you something, will you burn yourself from shock?” 

“Depends on the question,” Dean said, but he did move away from the stove, which Lucifer took as the go ahead. 

“When Sam called me a few days ago I asked why he didn’t call Robert Singer instead,” Lucifer said. 

Dean went stony before he went back to cooking. “It’s because he’s dead.” 

“Sam told me that,” Lucifer said. “And when I asked if it was from what I’d done, he told me it was the Leviathans.” 

“Yeah,” Dean said non-committally. He pushed the bacon around with a fork, which Lucifer would normally watch carefully so he’d know how to do it later. But he was looking at Dean’s face. 

“Why are there Leviathans on earth? We locked them up. I locked them up. It was one of the last acts I had as an angel, and the last battle fought before I was cast out. So tell me why they are now on earth where they do not belong?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean said. 

“Dean, if you found out a vampire you’d sworn you’d killed was suddenly back and attacking people you cared about, wouldn’t you want to know what happened?” 

Dean looked at Lucifer, and Lucifer felt like Dean was trying to see into his Grace from how close the look was. “You have people you care about?” 

Lucifer leaned back, which gave him the split second he needed to run his own words back through his mind. “Don’t delude yourself, Winchester.” 

“Alright, alright, I was just asking,” Dean said. 

“You were deflecting.” 

“Look, it was just a really shitty year, between the Leviathans and Bobby and Purgatory.” 

“What about Purgatory?” 

Dean turned off the heat to the bacon and focused just on Lucifer. “In order to gank the head Dick Leviathan we had to stab him with a bone covered three types of blood. And it sent him right back to Purgatory, and dragged me and Cas along with him.” 

“Castiel?” Lucifer asked. “How did you get back, did he come with you?” 

“There was a hole big enough for humans to get out. Cas got out some other way, I don’t know how,” Dean admitted. Lucifer realized just how defensive and troubled Dean looked. 

“Is he okay?” 

“Like hell I know. He keeps running off doing God knows what.” 

“He’ll come back,” Lucifer said. 

“Like you know him?” Dean asked with a sneer. 

“I know that myself, Michael, and all of heaven couldn’t keep him from you before. Whatever this is now, do you think it’s near as powerful.” 

“I don’t know what it is, and frankly I don’t care,” Dean snapped. He turned the burner back on under the bacon. 

Lucifer nearly sighed. Castiel was Dean’s weak spot, and not one Lucifer wanted to dig into. “What brought the Leviathans here?” Dean didn’t say anything, just shifted the bacon. “I need to know.” 

“Cas did,” Dean finally snapped, slapping the fork down against the edge of the skillet. “Castiel and his buddy, Crowley, the new king of hell, opened the gates to Purgatory and Cas ate all the souls so he could blow up Raphael and pretend to be God for a few weeks. Does that answer your question?” 

“Raphael’s dead?” 

Lucifer didn’t know how it sounded, but he heard the click of Dean turning the stove off and suddenly Lucifer was seated and Dean was gripping his shoulders. “Breathe, man, breathe.” 

“I am,” Lucifer snapped, jerking away. 

“You weren’t. Dude, we need to talk about your panic attacks.” 

“I don’t have panic attacks.” 

“I tell you Sam forgot to pay his bills and you stop breathing. I tell you that dick Raphael died and you stop breathing.” 

“You will not speak about my little brother that way,” Lucifer snapped. “Gabriel, Raphael, they were my little brothers and Michael and I raised them like you raised Sam. And now they’re both dead.” He suddenly felt like there was not air in the room. 

“Lucifer, dammit! Take a deep breath.” 

Lucifer shook his head. He couldn’t find the air. There was no oxygen to breathe. 

“Lucifer! Dammit! SAM!” Dean was shouting. 

Lucifer’s vision was going back. Fear gripped his chest. He was alone, he was all alone all over again. And it was his fault this time. Michael wasn’t supposed to be in the Cage. He was, but Michael wasn’t. Gabriel shouldn’t have even been in the fight. And Raphael… if Michael hadn’t been gone then he would still be alive. He’d killed them all.

“Lucifer! Lucifer, you’re got to breathe. Breathe, come one, breathe!” there were strong hands on his face, rough like the ones that had been striking him the previous night. He had to obey, he had to obey that voice, those hands. But he couldn’t find the air. 

“Dammit,” Lucifer heard the other voice, the one he didn’t have to listen to. And then it went dark and it all slipped away. 

Lucifer jolted away to a disgusting smell, and strong arms shaking his shoulder. “s’fire,” he muttered. 

“I got it!” Dean shouted, turning off the oven and dragging out the burning remains of the cinnamon toast he’d been trying to make. One more thing Lucifer was screwed up. 

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Sam said, and Lucifer couldn’t help but obey. Sam was in his tee shirt and boxers, and he knelt at Lucifer’s feet. Lucifer’s gut wanted to rebel. It was wrong. “Hey, do not throw up on me.” 

Lucifer nodded and hung his head. Dean shoved a glass of water into his hands, which he drank. His throat felt raw, and he tasted something awful in the back of his throat. “What?” he croaked, but that was all he could get out. 

“You started to hyperventilate. We couldn’t get you to calm down, so you passed out. You were only out a minute.” 

“Ok,” Lucifer said. He hated how weak his voice sounded to him. 

“Are you okay?” Sam asked. Lucifer realized that Sam was worried about him. He didn’t know why that made him happy, but it did. 

“I doubt he’ll say anything but that he’s okay,” Dean said. 

“Dean, what set him off?” 

“I was telling him about Raphael and the door to Purgatory and he freaked out,” Dean said. Lucifer stiffened. He hadn’t been able to ask Dean not to tell Sam. There was no way to stop it now. 

“Why were you telling him that?” 

“Because he asked, Sammy, why do you think? Not exactly something I want to relive,” Dean snapped. He was sounding defensive. That was Lucifer’s fault too. 

“Come on,” Sam said, helping Lucifer up. “You should go back to bed.” 

Lucifer followed Sam back to his room. Sam very gently settled him back into bed. He helped him get his pants off and even tucked him in. The gentleness terrified Lucifer. 

“Sam,” he croaked, and it hurt to say anything. 

“Don’t, Lucifer. Just don’t,” Sam said. 

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer said. He turned at looked at Sam. Sam just looked sad and disappointed. Lucifer just wanted to curl up and die. 

“I’ll come get you later. Just sleep,” Sam said. He walked out. 

Lucifer did curl up and close his eyes. Sam gave him a direct order, but it was the hardest thing to follow. He hated that look on Sam’s face. He’d failed. He’d failed. He’d failed. He’d failed. Again.


	12. Chapter 12

Lucifer wakes up about five hours later. He didn’t realize how tired he actually was until he looked at his clock and realized it was a half hour until noon. His throat felt raw and his buttocks still ached from the rough treatment the previous night. He also felt groggy, but he knew that could be a symptom only of coming out of a deep, restful sleep. 

He yawned, his mouth stretching wide. He sluggishly sat up and stretched until he heard his shoulder pop. Nick wasn’t a young man, and that meant Lucifer got to deal with all the fun of aging, including the ever increasing number of clicking joints. 

He looked at the clock again and then at the door. The last thing he remembered was Sam telling him that Sam would come and get him later, and that he should stay there. Nick’s memories supplied the word “time out”. Lucifer pouted, hating being treated like he was a human child, sent to his room. An immature part of him wanted to just leave the room to prove her could. 

But Sam had been upset hours earlier. Sam had been upset the previous night. Lucifer had known that and had disobeyed Sam’s wishes anyway. Lucifer had gone around Sam to Dean in order to disobey Sam. If Lucifer’s only punishment was a time out, then it would be small in comparison. He did not want to give Sam another reason to be upset at him. 

Lucifer did not lie back down, though he imagined he probably could have gone back to sleep. He did not want to seem like he was lazing about. If this was supposed to be punishment then he would act as such. 

It became clear to Lucifer that it was a punishment very quickly. He’d drunk a full glass of water a few hours ago, and really he hadn’t gone to the toilette when he’d woken up. He supposed the pressure wasn’t bad. Everything didn’t hurt, but he was very, very aware of his discomfort. 

He’d seen a book in the thrift store Dean had taken him to called Everybody Poops, a book for kids to remind them of fact that humanity lived in filth. Sleeping Lucifer could like very much. Eating, given the right food, was good. He hated pain and injury. The body’s waste disposal was disgusting and annoying time sink. 

Lucifer just needed to not think about it. He got up to fish out one of his books. The shifting didn’t really help change his focus, but deciding between Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett proved to be momentarily distracting. It was enough so that Lucifer was pondering over the appeal humanity had with reading about people killing each other instead of pondering on his own discomfort.

The distraction didn’t last too long. He cracked his book open to the introduction and then paused. Should he really be reading? If lying down was bad for punishment time, then wouldn’t reading be worse? He wasn’t taking in the punishment he was trying to escape it. Sometimes Sam used to talk to Lucifer during his punishments, or make him answer questions so Lucifer wouldn’t escape into his mind.

The point of not simply taking care of his needs was that Sam was mad and Lucifer didn’t want to make it worse. Ignoring a punishment would be terrible, especially if he half did it. If Sam walked in and caught him ignoring his punishment then Sam might make the punishment worse. The discomfort was distracting, but it wasn’t truly painful yet.

Lucifer stood and walked back to the bookshelf, putting the book down. He got half way back to the bed before he realized that putting the book back looked like hiding evidence. He turned and grabbed the book off the shelf, pivoting on his heel to return to the bed and hold the book. 

But that was too much like an admittance of guilt and Lucifer hadn’t even gotten two sentences in before he realized he shouldn’t be reading. He turned back around and place the book back in its spot. Then he returned to his bed to sit. 

Lucifer glanced at the clock, about seven minutes had passed. Conventional wisdom said that lunch was at noon. Dean was big on making sure Lucifer ate, so Lucifer doubted he’d be left alone during the lunch hour. It was 21 minutes until someone would come get him. He could wait. 

Lucifer looked back at the shelf and realized his mistake. Of course he’d go get a book. He read all the time now. It wouldn’t look realistic if he didn’t have anything near him at all, especially once he was awake. Lucifer had read all of the books he’d been gifted multiple times, and was trying to work his way through the monster part of the Men of Letters Library. Of course he’d have gotten a book, even if he did remember and put it back. 

He nearly tripped over his own feet in the rush to get the book and get back to bed. He settled the book on the bedside table and the adjusting it so it was perfectly perpendicular with his clock. He had no real reason to rush, but maybe Dean would need his help making lunch. Lucifer wanted to be ready if that were the case. 

He adjusted the book again, realizing that It is wasn’t exactly at a 90 degree angle with the clock. He fiddled that for a whole minute before he looked at the clock. If it was 18 minutes until noon, then he’d started getting the book straight at 11:12. Another minute ticked by. Lucifer has 17 minutes and he could tell they were going to take forever. 

He shifted on the bed, feeling his growing discomfort in his bladder. The book was fine. He didn’t need to move it again. He moved it anyway and then had to move it back. But it wasn’t quite right so he shifted it for another minute until he saw that he had 16 minutes left. 

Then he realized he’d made another mistake. This was a punishment and he was distracting himself. He needed to not look so meticulous about his book. He shoved it on the floor, but instantly regretted that action. He was looking for spontaneous, not messy. Besides that, Lucifer didn’t want to give Sam any reason to think Lucifer wouldn’t care for his gifts. He didn’t want Sam to take them away. 

Lucifer bent over, grabbing the book off the ground. He nearly groaned when he pressed his bladder into his legs in the process of getting his book. He set the book on the table and instantly wondered if that looked too messy. So he shifted it. He shifted himself and nearly groaned. 

Somehow his discomfort felt like it shouldn’t be so bad, but it was so bad at the same time. He was already picturing when Sam came in and he wondered if he should make a direct run for the toilette or if he should stay and listen to Sam. It was smarted her stay, but he didn’t know if he could. 

He moved his book again. He wanted it to look more nonchalant. It looked more planned, so he moved it again. He moved it again. He moved it again. It just seemed to be less and less of what he wanted it to. He realized that by moving the book it looked to him less nonchalant and more like he’d planned it lace it. He picked up the book and dropped it. That was better, but it wasn’t enough. 

He picked it up again and dropped the book once more. It was okay, but it still seemed too plan. He dropped it, knowing it would land on the opposite side. But that seemed too obvious a sign of a lapse of caring, so he flipping it back over, picked it up and dropped it again. That wasn’t working, so he tossed it onto the bed. He’d deal with it in a minute. 

He glanced at the clock and felt a happy pang when he saw that nine minutes had passed since he’d last looked and he had seven left until noon and lunch. He got up to pace, which did work to an extent. He could focus on his discomfort, but the movement allowed him to be distracted. He started to review the different signs of a vampire in his head. 

When he looked t at the clock again it was 12:01. Sam should be there by now. Lucifer hurt to sit down, but he did it anyway. He tossed the book on the table and realized that he’d been right to give up trying to make it perfect. 12:02 hit and no Sam. 

Lucifer started to squirm. He wondered if maybe Sam wasn’t going to come. What if Lucifer had misjudged the time? What if Lunch was at 1? What if it was at 11:30, and they’d come to try and get him at 11? Both of those thoughts made him want to shout with the unfairness. He didn’t know if he could wait until 1. 

He decided then and there that if Sam hadn’t come by 12:30, no 12:35, no, 12:34, that if Sam hadn’t come by then, then Lucifer would just have to go and deal with the consequences later. At least he’d probably know the rules to the game instead of just having to guess. 

But could he wait that long? The idea of the walk to the toilettes made Lucifer uncomfortable. Lucifer was aware of exactly how uncomfortable he was, and had been aware before. The feeling didn’t change, or get worse. But somehow Lucifer didn’t realize just how bad that uncomfortable feeling felt, or how close it meant it felt like he was to the edge. 

He wondered what would happen if he couldn’t hold it. Surely Sam would prefer him to go than to cause a mess, right? 

That, at least, got Lucifer off his feet. He dropped right back onto the bed when he heard the door knob turning very slowly. Lucifer didn’t want Sam to realize he’d been about to break punishment like how he’d planned. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” Sam said, sticking his head in. “Come on. Lunch is ready.” 

Lucifer wanted to get down and praise at Sam’s feet for his sense of timing. He got up and walked to the door, following Sam out. He had to go back when he realized that he’d left his lamp light on. Sam’s back illuminated in light while Lucifer stood in the dark reminded Lucifer of the warehouse. 

He walked back to Sam. Sam was here now and so was Lucifer. Sam had a home and Lucifer was allowed to visit. Lucifer smiled. Sam gave him an odd look when he saw what was probably a truly grateful smile. Sam shrugged, though and headed toward the kitchen. 

Lucifer couldn’t follow him if he wanted to. He moved away toward the bathroom, but didn’t move that much. Mostly he stayed where he was and waited until Sam realized he wasn’t following and turned around.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, wariness heavy in his voice. 

“I need to use the toilette,” Lucifer said. He stood there, feeling awkward. He found a memory of Nick accidentally declaring to everyone that he had to potty when he was at the dinosaur exhibit at a local museum. Lucifer could see Nick having to wait for them to find a teacher to go with him. That felt about the same level of desperation and embarrassment. Sam was staring at him. 

“Then go,” Sam said. “Why were you sitting on your bed if you had to go so bad?” 

“I didn’t want to disappoint you again. I didn’t know if I could leave and I didn’t want to try, in case I shouldn’t,” he said. 

Lucifer looked Sam in the eyes when he explained. Because of that Lucifer caught all the surprise and disgust in Sam’s look when he finished speaking. For that reason, Lucifer turned and went to the bathroom, deciding not to waste more time. He really just didn’t want to see any more of that look on Sam’s face.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based in episode "Remember the Titans". Lines taken from episode and integrated into chapter.

“Got a case,” Dean said over lunch. Sam looked decidedly as unhappy about it as Lucifer felt. He didn’t want to be by himself again. 

“What is it?” Lucifer asked. 

“Zombies,” Dean proclaimed, flipping a newspaper across the table to Lucifer and Sam’s side of the table. Lucifer moved closer so he could also read the newspaper. A quick glance at the article, which proclaimed the title “HUMAN ROADKILL TURNED ZOMBIE” told Lucifer everything he wanted to know. 

“So, guy’s a victim of a hit and run, guts everywhere and he just gets up and walks away?” Sam asked after he read the article. “Zombie.” 

“Maybe,” Dean said. “There’s not sign of brain munching.” 

“You remember Bobby’s wife?” Sam asked. Lucifer felt like his stomach bottomed out. Suddenly his soup didn’t seem quite so appetizing. “She didn’t munch on any brains.” 

Dean nodded. “Zombies.” 

“Looks like we have a case,” Sam said. He set the paper down and went back to his soup. 

Lucifer watched Sam and Dean pack that afternoon and head out to their next case. He expected not to see them for a few days, so he went back to his research on vampires. It surprised him when not even a day later he got a call from Dean. 

“What do you want?” Lucifer asked in a grumble.

“We’re headed back, with three house guests,” Dean said. 

“Are you talking and driving?” Lucifer asked. “You know that’s a bad idea. Very dangerous. You could kill someone.” 

“Dude, focus.” 

“Why are you bringing home guests?” 

“We’ll explain better when we get there. Look, I need you to start pulling out books, anything on god curses.” 

“Why not just pull out your bible? That seems to be a proper compendium,” Lucifer said. He flipped to the next page in his book to examine the illustration. 

“Not God, gods, like the pagans. Look, just look up anything about pagan god curses.” 

“Anything specific?” Lucifer asked. 

“Zeus,” Dean said. He hesitated. “And Prometheus.” 

“Ah, the good boy who stole fire back from the monsters,” Lucifer said. 

“You know about that.” 

“I know a lot Dean. Just because I wasn’t topside, doesn’t mean I didn’t hear things. Dad wouldn’t have liked a pagan stealing from his precious humanity. Probably a good thing for the pagans that Prometheus stole it back first. Divine wrath is never pretty, especially if you’re on the receiving end.” And Lucifer would know. 

“Yeah, but Zeus got his panties in a bunch and decided the Prometheus should die and get revived every day as punishment.” 

“Pagans,” Lucifer scoffed. 

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter, but turns out Prometheus had a kid and the kid’s cursed too. Dies every day.” 

“Are you trying to appeal to my humanity Dean? Because you should know I don’t really care about children.” 

“No, but I’m saying Sam will be upset if this goes south and that kid gets to live with this every day forever.” 

Lucifer didn’t speak for a moment. He didn’t want Sam to be unhappy. “I’ll see what I can find.” 

“You do that.” 

Dean hung up. Lucifer earmarked his page and got up to find the books they needed. He piled anything that looked promising in the reading room and started to work through it. He heard people enter, and voices, but he didn’t get up to go see. He had a job to do. He did leave the book open he was reading and went to take back a few books that he didn’t need. 

When he headed back to the reading room he heard voices, and a distinctly females voice. “-is a Greek god who’s been cursed to die every day by Zeus. And you guys are Ghostbusters?” she asked as Lucifer continued down the hall. “Am I getting this right?”

“Well, due to the fact that your son is currently, albeit, temporarily dead, I’m going to let that one slide,” Dean said around the time Lucifer came around the corner. 

“Lucifer, did you find anything?” Sam asked. 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. He walked to the table he’d been sitting at, picking up the book he’d been reading. It seemed like it would fit with the Winchesters’ particular style. 

“Lucifer?” the woman asked. “You have a librarian named Lucifer?” 

“Am I a librarian now?” Lucifer asked, handing the book to Dean who was closer. 

“Shut up,” Sam said in an offhanded manner. He leaned closer to the woman and the man who were sitting at the table. “Look, the sooner you can understand this, the sooner we can get to fixing it.” 

“Fixing it, how can we fix it, I’m not even sure I understand it,” the woman said. 

“This is what we normally do,” Sam said. “We’ll find the guy who did it, trap him, and work on him until he lets go of the curse.” 

“The guy being Zeus?” the woman asked skeptically.

“Yeah,” Sam said. 

“And what if he won’t stop the curse?” she asked. 

“Then we’ll gank him, and hope that ends it,” Dean said. “I think this is it.” 

“What does it say?” the man asked. 

“Dragon Penis,” Dean said. 

“It’s the journal of Dracopoulos,” Lucifer said. “An ancient Greek hunter, who was able to trap Zeus.” 

“He summoned Zues into a trap and found out how to kill him.” 

“How?” The man asked. 

“Wood,” Dean said. “Look, we need two things to for the summons: frozen energy from the hand of Zeus and the bone of a worshipper.” 

“You’re thinking Fulgurite,” Sam asked. 

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Look, get on the internet and see if there are any Greeks around here still worshipping Zeus.” 

“What about the wood?” the man asked. “Is that easy to find?” 

Dean looked a bit reluctant. “If you know where to look.” 

“It’s fairly common,” Lucifer said. 

“Fairly common?” Dean scoffed. “Last time we have to tie up some one-percenters just so we could get enough to get Death to talk to us for minute.” 

“Why were you summoning Death, for any reason why would you think that was a good idea?” Lucifer asked, more than a little taken aback. 

“You robbed millionaires for Fulgurite?” the woman asked. 

“Had to get it somehow,” Dean said. 

“You realize they sell it in crystal shops, right?” she asked. “They make cheap jewelry from it.” 

“Clearly he didn’t,” Lucifer said with a smirk. He was giving Dean a sharp look. 

“Why were you summoning Death?” the man asked. 

“It was a thing,” Dean said. He was probably realizing that he shouldn’t have mentioned that. “Look, let’s just say we do this type of stuff all the time.” 

“Greek pagans, two towns over,” Sam said. “And they have a Cemetery with an obit page,” Sam said. 

“Good,” Dean said. “You two are on grave duty,” he said pointing to Sam and the man. “Me and Lucifer will get the fulgurite.” 

“Why are you taking him?” Sam asked. 

“Do you really want to leave Lucifer alone with Hailey?” Dean asked. 

“Point,” Sam said with a shrug, getting up along with the man.

“I’m not going to eat her,” Lucifer said. 

“Come on, I thought you’d like to get out for a while, away from all these dusty books and out in the sunshine.” 

Lucifer was a bit impressed. Dean knew how to drive a hard bargain. He wanted Lucifer to just shut up and go with him. Lucifer hadn’t been outside since he’d arrived at the bunker, and he wanted to go out. He went to get his shoes. 

“Wait, this journal just ends,” he heard the woman, Hailey, saying as he rounded the corner. 

Lucifer went to his room and pulled on his socks and his boots. He hissed a bit when he sat down. He would be thankful when the soreness in his backside cleared. It was very inconvenient. He pulled out his jacket and went to find Dean. 

“Where did Hailey go?” he asked, seeing the reading room cleared of everyone but Dean. 

“The kid woke up,” Dean said. “Come on, we’ve got a Crystal shop to find.” 

“What exactly is a crystal shop?” Lucifer asked as he followed Dean outside. The Impala was gone. A big clunky car sat near the entrance. “Where’s the Impala?” 

“Sam took it, Hailey lent me the keys,” Dean said, getting in the driver’s side. Lucifer crawled into the passenger’s side and buckled in like Dean had taught him. 

“Oh, so what’s a crystal shop?” 

“A place for new agers, people who think you can do white magic with incense and can summon fairies and dragons and shit like that.” 

“So, idiots,” Lucifer said. 

Dean laughed as he pulled the car onto the road. “Yeah, there about.” 

“How far away is it?” Lucifer asked. 

“Far enough away for a drive, but not so far that it’ll take more than ten, fifteen minutes.” 

Lucifer settled in, annoyed at the tinting on the windows, but it was still a view to the outside world. The Bunker was worse than the warehouse in that the warehouse at least got some sunlight in. The Bunker got none. Even though the sun was setting, and even though Lucifer couldn’t focus well as the car sped along because of the limitation of his human eyes, it was still beautiful. 

“Why do humans insist on marring my father’s beauty with their landscaping and hideous buildings?” Lucifer asked. 

“Because we’re all dicks. Get over it,” Dean said. He pulled into a parking spot in front of the store and got out. Lucifer followed him in. 

The store smelled very bad, too much incense, all clashing. It had a million crystals and posts and all kinds of stupid things. Dean went to the counter, but Lucifer wandered around the shop, looking at all the knick knacks about. He found himself looking at a blown blue glass bird. It would fit into the palm of Lucifer’s hand. It didn’t really look like a real bird, but it was simple and Lucifer kept coming back to it. 

“You have a peculiar energy,” the shop owner said. Lucifer jumped and cursed his new humanity. The old woman should not have been able to creep up on him. “You are in chaos.” 

“Yes,” Lucifer said, annoyance rising. 

“You like the bird? The blower is a friend. He makes baubles of the soul,” she said. 

“I’m certain,” Lucifer said, not bothering to hide his disdain. He wasn’t even sure she knew what in the world she was talking about. He considered smashing it just to make her shut up. He was holding it. All he’d have to do is let go. But he didn’t. He looked back at the simple bird. It seemed to him too much like killing a real bird for no reason. It was senseless violence toward something that couldn’t defend itself. 

“You want it?” Dean asked. 

Lucifer looked up. He cursed himself again. He really needed to focus more. “It’s just glass.” 

“Do you want it?” Dean asked. For a moment Lucifer thought of both his father and Michael. They would get the same type of tone the ‘just tell me what you want, I’m not asking again’ tone. That tone could be embarrassing, but it always ended with Lucifer getting what he wanted. Though he had no reason to expect Dean wouldn’t just smash it to hurt him, Lucifer couldn’t stop the words that came out of his mouth. 

“Yes,” Lucifer admitted. He looked Dean in the eye and Dean looked back. 

“Add the blue bird to the bill.” 

“Very good,” the woman said, snatching the bird out of Lucifer’s hand faster than Lucifer would have thought her capable. This time Lucifer followed Dean and the woman to the counter. They were rung up easily. 

“Baubles of the soul?” Dean asked with a snort once they were outside the store. “Is your soul a pretty little bird?” 

“I don’t have a soul. Only humans have souls,” Lucifer said. But that seemed wrong to him. He had no grace, so what would happen to him when he died? There was no way to kill a soul, but what about someone like him? He didn’t think he wanted to find out. 

They said nothing during the ride back. Lucifer clutched the little box in his lap and forced himself to focus on the outside and not on when he could get back to the bunker and open the box. He had to remind himself that he didn’t know when the next time he’d see the outside world would be. 

That didn’t mean that he didn’t go directly to his room as soon as they got back, and it seemed like he couldn’t safely loiter outside anymore. He took his bird out of the box and found a nice, steady place for it on one of his shelves. 

He decided he wasn’t much up for the company of other humans, wandering out only to get his vampire book and make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and some water for dinner. He caught a glimpse of the boy the whole fuss was over, but then Lucifer went back to his room. 

Before he had wanted so badly to help Sam with research, and he had. But he read from Sam that Sam would not be happy with his presence around other people. Sam had let him outside rather than leave him around Hailey and her child. Lucifer slipped off to sleep and when he came to it was very late and Sam and Dean weren’t back. 

Lucifer went to wash the dishes. The Winchesters came back not long afterward. 

“How did it go?” Lucifer asked, seeing the absence of the others. 

“Don’t,” Dean said and walked back toward the bedrooms after he grabbed a beer.

“Have you eaten?” Lucifer asked Sam, who was still standing in the kitchen. 

“Did you? You didn’t come to dinner?” 

“I had a sandwich,” Lucifer said. “What happened?” 

“Prometheus didn’t make it.” 

“But the kid is fine?” Lucifer asked. 

“Yeah,” Sam said. 

“Then what’s wrong? The child grew without his father anyway. This won’t change much except he won’t die… or did you not get Zeus as well?” 

“No, he’s dead.” 

“Good,” Lucifer said. “Arrogant fool who thought he was more powerful than the one who created him.” 

“God created Zeus?” 

“He created everyone and everything,” Lucifer said. “He is God after all.” 

“Yeah,” Sam said. He sounded tired. He lowered himself into a chair. “I just never thought about pagans and God crossing.” 

“You wonder how my Father could create something like Zeus?” Lucifer asked. “The pagans you know are the children of the Titans. They believe their own myths too much.” 

“But still,” Sam said. 

“I don’t know, Sam. I could question it. I did, you see where it got me,” he said, opening his arms. Sam studied his too human body so closely that Lucifer wished he could cover up, or that he had on more layers. 

“Thanks, Lucifer,” Sam said. 

Lucifer jumped. “For what?” Sam had never thanked him before. Fear jacked up Lucifer’s heart. 

“For the research. I didn’t think Dean had been thinking at all when he brought you here… but you came through for us. You got the information we needed and we saved a lot of time. Oliver didn’t have to deal with dying again because of you. So, thank you.” 

“You don’t need to thank me. All you had to do was ask, and I’d have done it,” Lucifer said. 

“Yes, but you didn’t have to.” 

“But I would have anyway. I want to useful to you, Sam. I want to help you,” Lucifer said. He felt raw just saying it. 

“You did,” Sam said. 

“Then, thank you,” Lucifer said. Sam stared at him for a while. Lucifer went back to putting the dishes away. “You should try to sleep, Sam.” 

“Go to bed,” Sam said. 

“Yes sir,” Lucifer said. His heart felt light when he saw Sam was smiling, even if it was small. It was just for him. Lucifer headed for him room, feeling like he’d sleep much better than he had the previous night.


	14. Chapter 14

Lucifer felt like he was riding a high for about a week after that. Sam had thanked him. Sam thought he was useful. He didn’t even mind when Dean got him in on cataloging all the ancient items from the basement levels of the bunker. He felt hope. It wasn’t a new feeling for him, but hope had seemed bitter for so long. He knew how this could turn out badly, but he still couldn’t help but feel light. He could prove himself useful. Maybe one day the Winchesters would let him help with more than just being their librarian and research assistant. 

He rounded the corner to the war room, where Dean had him collecting boxes. Lucifer had his arms full from another trip down to the basement and up. His lower back felt like it was on fire, and he couldn’t help but pant a bit from all those stairs. Human bodies and their limitations were very frustrating for him. 

“Got a case,” Sam said when he passed Lucifer. That punctured Lucifer’s high. He’d be left behind again. 

He dropped his boxes off with the others and then went to the table to sit down across from Dean. If the Winchesters were going then there was no reason for him to keep rushing around. He’d work while they were gone. But at that moment he was tired and he was going to sit down.

“Anything good in the trash can?” Lucifer asked, seeing Dean’s brows furrowed as he looked in. 

“No,” Dean said, dropping it. He looked over at Lucifer. “Hey, do you think Sam has been a little off the past few days?” 

Lucifer felt his brows furrow. “What do you mean?” 

“Cagey, like he’s hiding something,” Dean said. 

“Dean, you and Sam are keeping… I don’t even know how many secrets from me. I figured there’s little I can do about it, and to not ask questions. I don’t think Sam seems any more secretive than he normally is. Why? What did you find in the trashcan?” 

“Nothing,” Dean said. Lucifer heard the sound of the metal trashcan scraping across the floor as Dean pulled it away from Lucifer with his foot. 

“You know, if you just tell me what’s going on I can keep my eyes out for signs and maybe I can actually help you,” Lucifer said. “If it’s bad enough to make you scared I’ll find out eventually anyway.” 

“Okay, fine,” Dean said. He picked up the trash can and handed it to Lucifer. A quick glance was all Lucifer needed, but he stared for a moment. Blood on a white napkin. 

“Dean, what’s going on?” 

“Sam was coughing, like crazy. Look, he said he was fine but clearly, he’s not,” Dean said. “I know you two have… something, I don’t know. I’m not asking, I don’t want to know. But I need you to look out for him when I’m not here.” 

“Of course,” Lucifer said. He handed the trash can back to Dean. “I take it I’m keeping this conversation to myself.” 

“Spot on,” Dean said. He put the trash can back and left to go get his gear. They still had a job and Lucifer was still being left behind. Only difference was now Lucifer had to worry about what kind of illness had Sam coughing up blood. 

Lucifer didn’t see Sam and Dean off. He went back to work on the filing project. Sam hadn’t left his computer, so Lucifer had wrote everything with the intent of typing it up later, though he had to admit his typing skills left much to be desired. He didn’t think about that, though. He worried about Sam. If he was sick, would he get seriously injured because he wasn’t at his peak form?

Lucifer hadn’t worried about Sam on hunts before because he knew how good Sam was. He knew how good Sam and Dean were. They were good enough to lock up him and Michael. Not that they wouldn’t get hurt, but Lucifer had believed they’d survive. He’d become more worried when he heard about the Leviathans being loose. But there was nothing Lucifer could do, especially not as a human who was much weaker than the Winchesters. 

He tried not to worry, but his agitation kicked into over drive when he got a harried call from Sam. Lucifer could hear Dean cursing the back around and the sound of tires screeching. “Sam?” Lucifer asked. 

“Lucifer, in your crypts, did you have a piece of parchment, something that could translate the words of God?” 

“What? How do you know about the crypts?” 

“Answer the question,” Sam snapped. 

“There’s no parchment, not that I know of. Sam, Azazel put those together. I was a bit locked up at the time.” 

“Great, you’re a big help!” Sam said with sarcasm. 

“Sam, wait. Sam!” But it was too late, Sam had hung up. 

Lucifer tried calling back. He called again and again and again. He waited a moment, counting to two hundred before he tried Sam again. He counted to five hundred and tried Sam again. He counted to fifty and tried Sam again. Then he tried Dean. He tried Dean three times before Dean picked up. 

“Dammit, Lucifer, stop calling,” Dean snapped. Lucifer could hear a male and female voice in the background that he didn’t know, saying his name in surprise. 

“Don’t you dare hang up on me, Winchester. If you do, I will kill you.” 

“I thought you didn’t have the juice.” 

“The Bunker has knives and I know where you sleep. Now tell me what the hell is going on.” 

“No can do, a bit busy at the moment with one of your messes.” 

“Put Sam on the phone.” 

Lucifer could hear Dean as the phone was handed off. “Here Sam, your boyfriend threatened to kill me if I didn’t hand off to you.” 

“I did not threaten to kill him for that. I threatened to kill him if he hung up on me. I asked him if I could talk to you.” 

“What do you want?” Sam asked. He didn’t sound at all amused. Lucifer knew he was going to hurt all over from this one. 

“What’s going on? Why do you need to know where Azazel stashed my stuff?” 

“You don’t need to know.” 

“I beg to differ. What are you even looking for?” 

“I don’t know. Meg, what’s Crowley looking for?” 

“The little worm who sold me out?” Lucifer asked. 

“New King of Hell. I guess you didn’t get the memo.” 

“Is that really him?” Lucifer heard the female voice. 

“Yeah,” Sam said. 

Lucifer heard her ask something, but he couldn’t make it out. But then he heard her voice very clearly. “Father?” 

“Daughter,” Lucifer said, slipping on his loving father smile. Demons were a means to an end, but they craved affection like any other creature. He had decided to provide it to those who were good to him until he killed them. There was no reason to be cruel to them just because he found them disgusting. They did his work after all. 

“You’re alive. Where are you?” 

“You forget yourself, my child,” Lucifer said. He realized that he’d missed it, talking to his demons, being in charge. He’d missed who he had been before. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, just on the end of one of my father’s cosmic jokes.” He probably would not have explained so much to her before, but he knew he could make Sam happy if he could get him what he wanted.

“You’re with the Winchesters?” 

“Tell them what they want to know, daughter. It will help me.” 

“Of course,” she said. The delight in her voice would have been sweet if it weren’t so bitter. Was that really all he was worth? The adoration of demons? Not even that, since he no longer had any power. She believed he was working with the Winchesters toward some goal. She thought her salvation was back on. The demons didn’t understand that there was no salvation for them. Their pain came from their own black souls. 

“What is Crowley looking for?” Lucifer asked. 

“Crowley’s looking for the angel tablet,” she said. He could hear the silence in the room, or maybe it was just white noise in his own ears. 

“Don’t let him get his hands on it,” Lucifer instructed. 

“Of course, father. I won’t fail you.” 

“I know you won’t child. You never have before.” He could practically hear her joy. “Now, pass me back to Sam.” 

There was some noise on the other end. “Yeah?” Sam asked. 

“She’ll do what you ask. Don’t let Crowley get his hands on that tablet. Don’t let him get his hands on a prophet who can read it either.” 

“Yeah, we’re on that. He won’t.” 

“Promise me you won’t. Sam, these are my brothers and sisters.” 

“That you were going to kill.” 

“I don’t know what’s on that tablet, Sam, none of us do. But what if it had the ability to control the angels? Would you want Heaven under the rule of Hell?” 

“No,” Sam said after a moment of silence. “Of course not.” 

“Then keep the salesman away from the tablet.” 

“We’ll see you when we get back,” Sam said and hung up. 

Lucifer was restless after that. There was nothing he could do but wait. And it was agonizing. He didn’t get a call or anything after that. Sam and Dean just came home one day. Lucifer didn’t even get to say anything before Sam was man handling him down to one of the bathrooms in the Bunker. There were a few bathrooms with just a toilet and a sink. Sam shoved him in and followed after him. 

“Did you find the tablet?” Lucifer asked. 

“Castiel has it,” Sam said. 

“Where is he?” Lucifer asked. He wasn’t excited about seeing his brother again. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Sam said. 

“I… I apologize, Sam,” Lucifer said. What else could he say? He knew he was really in trouble this time. 

“Don’t bother. You know better than to talk to me that way. You know better than to take liberties. I had a long ride home to think about what to do with you.” 

“Of course,” Lucifer said softly. He had to force himself to look Sam in the eyes when Sam spoke. Sam was angry. Lucifer tensed up already. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Sam said. 

“You aren’t?” Lucifer said. 

“But I still have to punish you. You understand why I have to, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” Lucifer said quietly. He started to wrack his mind, trying to figure out what Sam could do if he wasn’t going to hurt him.

“You’re going to stay in this room,” Sam said. “You aren’t going to come out for any reason. You have water and a toilette. There’s no reason for you to need to leave. When I come get you, then you can leave.” 

“Yes, sir,” Lucifer said. He watched Sam turn and leave without another word.


	15. Chapter 15

Lucifer stared at the door for a long moment after it shut. 

Well, shit. 

He slowly lowered himself onto the cold tile floor. He’d just healed up from the last punishment he’d been given. It felt more and more like he couldn’t keep from doing anything but mess up. He moved a bit back until he was leaning against one of the also very cold wall. It was tiled as well and absolutely freezing. The tile would eventually warm up but leeching his warmth, but that would take some time. 

It seemed like he was taking more and more liberties than he had before. 

But then he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this was just who he was. Even his own father hadn’t been able to beat out that stubborn streak in him. Lucifer was willing, able to bend so much more for Sam, but he wondered if maybe he would always, always be like this. 

He remembered being back in the warehouse. He saw Sam at odd intervals. Sam showed up for maybe an hour or two and then left. Lucifer only had to be good and remember how to be good for those times. But now Lucifer was around him almost all the time. Was he even able to be good for Sam? Was he just stuck always being like this? 

And did he even want to change? 

Lucifer shivered a bit. He really hated the cold. The good thing about flesh was that it was warm. He’d run very cold when he’d worn Nick as a vessel. Now that this was his body it ran hot, something that Lucifer had appreciated when the Winter came, before Sam had brought extra blankets. 

The cold was leeching right through his jeans. Lucifer pulled his knees up to his chest and looked down at his socks. He smiled at them. At least the socks were warm. He shivered again. 

He really hated the cold. But this wasn’t as bad as the cage. For once that thought was comforting. Yes, he couldn’t really remember the cage, but he had survived worse. 

What he hated more was that he’d disappointed Sam. It wasn’t even disappointing Sam. It was that he knew he’d keep disappointing Sam. He was who he was. He could try and be good for Sam. He could make this easier on Sam. But Sam was right: he needed to be punished. But Sam really wasn’t the one who should be the one to do it. 

Lucifer thought of that damn salesman Crowley. He was an annoying little worm, and it galled Lucifer that he’d taken over as King of Hell. Not that Lucifer really wanted the job. It was the title he’d been given because of his crimes. It was a punishment as well as a title. Because Lucifer was too powerful to simply be any old person. He’d created the first demon, so he got to rule over them. 

Was it his father’s joke? His father made everything in the world, and everything that had been made was through him because he gave everything with a brain the power of choice. And Lucifer had chosen to create something as far against his father as he could. He was trying to show how wrong humans could be. But maybe he’d just shown how far angels could go. 

No wonder his siblings had turned from him. They were afraid of being like him. He had seen humans react the same way. When they saw someone being truly evil they treated them like something other than human. Hell, they treated humans who’d only committed little infractions the same way. Humans and Angels both would pull away from those they’d seen as sinners, because they wanted to believe that could never be them. 

Lucifer let out a bitter laugh. He wondered how many terribly things Castiel had done now. But Sam and Dean still cared about him. They still thought he was good. What would Castiel have had to do in order for them to turn and hate him? For Dean to treat Castiel the way Sam treated Lucifer? 

Would they have loved Lucifer is Castiel had been the great fallen and Lucifer had been the one to come to them? Would Sam have looked at him fondly all the time? Would Dean have talked about him the way Dean talked about Castiel? With all those complicated emotions in his voice? Would either of them have loved him? 

Lucifer felt desperately alone. There was no one left who loved him. Michael had turned him back on him, as had his father. Sam was supposed to have loved him. The bond between vessel and angel was great. Sam had been molded to be just like him. 

And they really were just alike. Hadn’t Lucifer wanted to hurt everyone who’d harmed him? Lucifer had done terrible, awful things to achieve his revenge, and what had it gotten him? He was human and broken and would suffer for the rest of his existence? 

His father had sworn to punish terribly whoever harmed Cain. Would his father do that to Sam? Would he bring the fires of Heaven down on Sam’s head for hurting Lucifer. Lucifer knew that he’d always been special to his father. Other angels died, or were stripped of their power. Lucifer was left power intact and trapped in a box. His wings were ripped out, but he’d still been an angel. And he was still alive. He still existed. He was special. 

Was Sam an instrument of his continual punishment? And then what? Would the tool be cast aside? And what would happen to Sam’s soul after the damage of torturing another living being? 

That thought made Lucifer feel cold all the way through. Would Sam really become like him? That was one thing Lucifer would stop at all costs. Sam was still good. He was trying to balance his own morality with what he knew was right. He knew Lucifer had to be punished, but he wouldn’t let Dean or anyone else hurt Lucifer. He wouldn’t turn Lucifer over to the angels or the demons. Lucifer would have made a grand bargaining chip, but he wouldn’t do it. 

Instead he put all that darkness on his own heart and did the work himself. Sam would destroy himself again and again to try and do what was right. These thoughts made Lucifer feel cold all the way through. Sam would destroy himself trying to get justice for a world that didn’t deserve it. 

Lucifer curled up tighter and he set out to plan. He wasn’t going to let Sam ruin himself over Lucifer. Lucifer would never be worth that. 

 

* * *

 

Sam didn’t come in person to get him. Lucifer’s cell phone had been in his pocket when Sam had gotten Lucifer. Lucifer kept the thing on him at all times, per Dean’s instructions. But Lucifer had also forgotten about it until it started ringing. 

“Hello?” Lucifer asked. His voice was a bit rusty because he hadn’t spoke in quite some time. He knew he was very hungry. He guessed he’d missed at least two meals if not more. Probably more.

“I wasn’t certain if you’d have your phone,” Sam’s voice said. 

“Dean told me to always have it on me,” Lucifer said. 

“How do you still have battery?” Sam asked. 

“I forgot I had it,” Lucifer said. “I’m still in the bathroom.” 

“I know you are,” Sam said. “The door’s unlocked. Dean and I got wind of a case.” 

Sam had forgotten him. But he hadn’t forgotten him, but not so much that he had left him alone through the entire case. 

“May I leave?” Lucifer asked. 

“Yes,” Sam said. “We’ll be home in a few days.” 

“Of course,” Lucifer said, standing up. His legs felt stiff. He stretched and yawned. He’d been in the bathroom for at least one sleep. He wouldn’t suggest anyone sleep on the tile floor. It was cold and very uncomfortable. 

“Bye,” Sam said and hung up. 

Lucifer opened the bathroom door and limped out. His hip hurt something fierce from sleeping on the cold tile floor. He was glad to be out, he really was. He also really did needed to charge his phone now. He headed back to his room to get the charger and then went to the library to read some of his books. He needed to find a way to talk to Dean when he came home.

 

* * *

 

Sam and Dean came back a few days in something of a cheerful mood. Well, cheerful considering it was a hunt. 

“Welcome home,” Lucifer said when they returned, coming from the kitchen. 

“Yeah,” Dean said. He sniffed the air. “Are you-” he sniffed again. “Are you baking?” 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. “I found a cook book. I understand they stay pretty well.” 

“Did this cook book include a reference to an eye of newt or something?” Sam asked, moving past Lucifer into the kitchen. 

“They’re sugar cookies,” Lucifer said. “Nothing was weirder than vanilla.” 

“We have vanilla?” Sam asked, turning and looking at Lucifer. 

“We do now,” Lucifer said. 

Sam froze. “You left the bunker?” 

Lucifer thought about shifting nervously, but he didn’t. “Yes, I did,” he said. “There’s a lovely selection of vehicles down in the lower levels, I borrowed one and a few dollars and bought some supplies.” 

“Neat,” Dean said. “Can I try one?” 

“Yes, just none of the ones on the rack,” Lucifer said. “Get the ones from the cookie tin.” 

“Did you buy those too?” Sam asked tightly. 

Lucifer looked at Sam. He knew Sam wanted to punish him. “I wanted to do something nice for you,” Lucifer said. “I bought a few things we needed, and I made cookies for you. I’m not going to run away. I don’t have anyone else but you two. I understand that it’s not safe. Which is why I did something else.” 

He pulled up the hem of his shirt, showing Sam the massive bandage he had on his side. 

“What the fuck did you do?” Dean asked, apparently noticing the bandage as well. 

“I went to the tattoo place,” Lucifer said. 

Sam’s brow quirked. “That closest tattoo place in three hours away. It’s actually in a whole other state. How did you learn to drive anyway?” he asked. 

“The body remembers,” Lucifer said. “Muscle memory.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t get pulled over,” Sam said. 

“And I doctored one of the fake IDs you have,” Lucifer said. “I did clear out the cash, but I thought you’d prefer my not getting possessed.” 

Sam reached out and started to pull the bandage off. His eyes got a bit huge when he saw the off script written on Lucifer’s body. “That’s not just an anti-possession tattoo,” Sam said. “Is that Enochian?” 

Dean came over, crowding to see as well. Lucifer bit down his annoyance. He wasn’t a side show freak to be stared at.

“Yes,” Lucifer said. The anti-possession tattoo was on his left ribs. About half way down. The Enochian characters wrapped around anti-possession mark. “It’s warding, so angels can’t find me… a precaution.” 

“That’s… smart actually,” Sam admitted. He looked a bit grudging. He did smooth the bandage back down. 

“Thanks,” Lucifer said quietly. “I am human… I need to act like it. It won’t do if I’m captured… and I want to be able to help, even if that just means grocery runs.” 

Sam scoffed. “Oh please.” 

“I don’t lie,” Lucifer reminded him. He still didn’t. Not even after everything. “I want to be useful, and I can’t do that if you have to worry about me being possessed or located.” 

“It’s a good plan,” Dean admitted. Sam shot Dean a look. Dean just shrugged. “Look, Lucifer’s stuck here anyway. If he can go buy food it just keeps us from having to do it.”

Sam took a step back and so did Dean. Lucifer lowered his shirt back down and looked between them. He knew there was something going unsaid between the two of them. Lucifer didn’t like it, but he didn’t say anything about it. 

The timer dinged on the oven and he went to pull out the next batch of cookies and put the last tray in. When he looked up next he was alone with Dean. 

“Where did Sam go?” Lucifer asked. 

“To put his stuff away,” Dean said. 

“Good,” Lucifer said. “I need to talk to you anyway.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Well, you’re straightforward today.” 

“Yes, well, it’s important and Sam’s going to be angry I told you, but I need to tell you,” Lucifer said, trying to put a lot of urgency in his voice. 

“Is it about his health?” Dean asked. 

“No… well, not physical health. It’s more spiritual,” Lucifer said. He realized how quickly he could get off on a tangent. “Look, Sam’s doing something stupid, and he’s going to end up hurt for it, and I don’t want that to happen.” 

“What’s he doing?” Dean asked. He walked over to Lucifer and started to help Lucifer move cookies off the cooling rack into a box.

“He’s been punishing me,” Lucifer said. 

“Yeah, I kind of got that,” Dean said. 

“No, you don’t get it,” Lucifer said. “I’m not a big fan of pain, I’ll be honest. But I don’t… I don’t really disagree with him. We don’t know what happens if I die, because if I were to become a demon, then the punishment of Hell would be fair. But if I just go on to oblivion... well, you know. And Sam isn’t comfortable killing a human anyway. He’s not really comfortable hurting a human either. He always gets nervous when he remembers I’m not… you know, what I was.” 

“So what’s going on?” Dean asked. “You’re telling me he starved you on purpose?” 

“Among other things,” Lucifer admitted in a whisper. 

“Shit,” Dean breathed out. “I mean, I knew when he was soulless… but shit. I mean, he’s… he’s same. He’s mister goody two shoes. And he’s torturing you.” 

Lucifer winced at that. “Dean, when I was cast out I decided I wanted to hurt the people who’d hurt me… I don’t want Sam to become me.” 

Dean looked Lucifer right in the eyes. Then he nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said. 

“Can you help him with this?” Lucifer asked. 

“Yeah,” Dean said. He had a really hard look in his eyes. “He’s brought me back from that edge way too many times. He doesn’t need to be driving down that road.” 

“Agreed,” Lucifer said. Then he took a shaky breath. “Look… If you need to give me to a demon or something-”

“No way in Hell,” Dean said with a snarl. “Jesus, what is it with you lot and your damn martyr shit? We need you here. No need to give the demons any extra anything. For whatever reason you’re human, and maybe you’ll go down fighting like the rest of us, but you might as well try and do some damn good with what little time you’ve got left.” 

“That won’t make up for what I’ve done,” Lucifer said. 

“And nothing I do will ever make up for what I’ve done,” Dean hissed. His nostril’s flared out and his eyes got a little wider, a little wilder. “You want to hear about the people I tortured in Hell? Or the people who’ve died as demon vessels because it’s easier to just gank the whole package than deal with fighting each individual. We make short cuts. We torture. We steal and we just hope… just hope…” Dean trailed off and took a deep breath. “We try anyway, because sometimes the fight is all there is left. Now you’re not beat and you’re not broken. The fact that you drove to Nebraska to get that tattoos tells me as much.” 

Lucifer studied Dean and Dean studied him right back. What Dean was talking about almost sounded like the Winchester’s twisted idea of family. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. Lucifer wasn’t getting his hopes up. 

“It never occurred to me,” Lucifer said. “To try and make it better, to do, whatever it is you do.” 

“No, you were just trying to make Sam happy, in a really weird twisted way.” Dean chuckled. “You do follow him around like an angel puppy.” 

“Not a puppy. Nor am I an angel,” Lucifer said, sounding grumpy. 

Dean shook his head. “Whatever. You bake good shit though,” he said. He took a cookie and walked out. “I’m going to talk to Sam. You just stay out of the way for a while. And if Sam tries to do anything-”

“I’ll tell him no,” Lucifer said. 

“Good,” Dean said with a short nod. He walked out. 

Lucifer turned and focused on putting away his cookies. He felt an odd thrill in his stomach. It was odd. He never thought that he’d get to a place where he’d want to obey a human. Then Sam Winchester found him as a human. Now Lucifer wasn’t certain he wanted to disobey Sam.

He would though. He’d do it to save Sam’s souls. Sam was worth more than Lucifer’s guilt and hatred. He was worth a lot. Lucifer wasn’t going to let Sam destroy himself, no matter what that meant.


	16. Chapter 16

Lucifer was ready for some kind of fallout from Sam and Dean’s conversation, but it didn’t happen. At least it got interrupted. Lucifer finished putting the cookies away. He knew he should have just stayed in the kitchen, but he was too curious. 

The fight started in the research room, where Sam had apparently gone after tossing his stuff into his room. Lucifer stood at the edge of the room, out of sight and listened to quiet, muffled voices. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he could tell by tone that they got more and more agitated. Dean’s voice had an accusatory edge, while Sam sounded defensive. 

A very deeply scarred part of Lucifer’s being had a momentary flash of fear. He knew the fear was irrational. Dean wasn’t Michael. He wasn’t following orders. He was trying to protect Sam from ruining himself. A nasty part of Lucifer commented that Michael may have been doing the same thing for Lucifer. But Lucifer shook it off. Dean would do anything for Sam. This was just an uncomfortable conversation, not Sam being disowned.

“Dammit Dean!” Sam finally shouted. 

There was a moment of silence where everyone froze. Then Lucifer heard footsteps. Very loud and fast footsteps. Loud and fast footsteps that were getting louder. 

He had just enough time to duck into a closet before Sam rounded the corner. 

“Dammit, Sam!” Lucifer heard as the two brothers walked past him toward the rooms. 

There was the sound of slamming doors and then silence. 

Well, it wasn’t true silence. There was the far off buzz of the argument, but Lucifer was too far away to hear and the walls muffled too much. His heart was pounding. Sam was clearly angry and hurt, and Lucifer knew he was the cause. If Sam had seen him-

Lucifer’s blood pressure went up just thinking about it. 

That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Lucifer shouldn’t be afraid of a human, especially not Sam. Knowing that reminded Lucifer why this had to be done. 

He crept out of the closet and quietly shut it behind him before heading back to the research room. The table still had the same books that had been there when Lucifer went to bake cookies. There was a book on Kappas, and one on Nordic Pagan lore. Lucifer may have been highlighting every time Loki’s name came up. 

Lucifer may have spent the afternoon laughing himself sick imagining Gabriel doing all the things Loki did in the stories. It had been a very strange kind of comfort. 

Now Sam’s laptop was sitting open on the desk, some of the books left over from earlier research by Lucifer or the Winchester brothers, brushed into piles so that Sam could put his computer down. He was plugged in and charging. Lucifer was very, very not allowed to touch the computer. 

He’d watched Sam and Dean used the infernal thing enough that he was certain he could figure it out. He knew how to use his phone anyway. He’d learned to use the oven and the shower. He figured he could learn to use it. He just wasn’t sure that was the cross he wanted to die upon. He was lucky that Sam had accepted his explanation about the tattoos and the trip out.

He wondered if maybe the computer would be muscle memory like the car. 

He decided to stop looking at it before he got in trouble. 

There was a low buzzing hum of a phone vibrating. Lucifer pushed the papers aside until he found Sam’s phone. The name on the phone was KEVIN. No matter what the Winchesters always answered when Kevin called. 

Lucifer also was absolutely not going to try and break up the fight for a phone call. 

His phone wasn’t a touch screen, but he’d seen TV and he’d watched Sam and Dean answer the phone before. He flicked the green button over and answered the phone. He did feel pleased with himself when it did exactly what it was supposed to and what he expected. 

“Sam’s phone,” Lucifer said. 

“Where’s Sam?” the voice, Kevin demanded. He sounded very young and very scared. 

“Fighting with Dean at the moment,” Lucifer said. 

“They seem to do that a lot. I need to talk to them,” Kevin demanded. 

“This isn’t a fight I particularly want to cut in the middle of,” Lucifer said. “Can I take a message.” 

“Sure,” Kevin said, pure sarcasm in his voice. “Tell them the King of Hell knows where I am.” 

That made Lucifer’s stomach flip over. His nostrils flared out in anger. There was that stupid salesman again. “That absolute worm,” Lucifer snarled. 

“So can you go get Sam now?” Kevin demanded. He sounded pissed and panicked. 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. “Stay on the line.” He started to walk out of the Research room and toward the bedrooms. “Do you have safety measures up, or are you just hiding somewhere?” 

“Salt, enochian and demon wards… who are you?” Kevin suddenly asked. 

“Lucifer,” he answered easily. 

There was a pause on Kevin’s end for a moment while Lucifer strode down the hall. “Like Lucifer’s crypts Lucifer?” 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. “Like the Devil.” 

“Like… not just a name, Lucifer?” Kevin asked quietly. 

Lucifer paused in his walking. “Kevin Tran the prophet, that’s you, right?” 

“Yes… how did you know?” Kevin sounded terrified. 

“I was an angel once. Every angel knows all the names of the prophets,” Lucifer said. “Why aren’t you here? In the Bunker, with all the wards and Sam and Dean physically here to protect you?” 

“You think it’s safer being around them?” Kevin asked, sounding a bit hysterical. “Where’s Sam?” 

“Yelling at Dean,” Lucifer said. He could hear muffled shouts, but he wasn’t getting closer. “I’d never hurt Sam, and because I’d never hurt Sam I’m not going to hurt Dean.” 

“You’re supposed to be locked up.” Kevin’s voice cracked. Lucifer felt bad for him. 

“I’m human, Kevin,” Lucifer said. “Right now I’m just a reference like every book in this bunker.” 

Kevin paused on the line. “Why?” 

“Because my Father decided it would be so,” Lucifer said. 

“Yeah, well tell your father he’s a huge dick who ruined my life. I’ve got a massive headache all the time from reading these tablets, which are almost impossible to translate. I’ve got the King of Hell on my ass at all times. My best friend has been murdered. My Mother is always in tears. I was supposed to be in college right now. I was supposed to be the first Asian American President. I had dreams. I had goals. I have a life. Now I have headaches and a boat that I live on alone.” 

“Are you done?” Lucifer asked. 

“Yeah,” Kevin said glumly. 

“Unfortunately my Father is not always kind to his chosen. One of his prophets had to lie in the dirt for months without moving. Many of them were jailed for speaking the truth,” Lucifer said. 

“Is this supposed to be comforting?” Kevin asked. “Because if it is, you really suck at this.” 

“I wish it was supposed to be comforting, but there is no comfort in this,” Lucifer said. “There is comfort in heaven.” 

“But I’m not ready to die yet,” Kevin protested. 

“Me either,” Lucifer said. “I’m sorry that this isn’t easy. But we’ll see what we can do about the worm. You do not have the angel tablet,” he said. “So if the worm is after you… it’s about demons, isn’t it?” 

Kevin was silent for a moment. “Yes, it is.” 

Lucifer let out a heavy sigh. “Which Sam and Dean are using to do something stupid?” 

“It’s not stupid,” Kevin protested. 

“With them, I assure you that it is stupid,” Lucifer said dryly. He could still hear shouting. “But that doesn’t mean they won’t do it, whatever the consequences may be.” 

“You’re an angel, or you were, right?” Kevin asked. 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. 

“Do you remember Enochian?” Kevin asked. “I mean, will you come check the wards? You know Crowley, right? You know what would keep him out?” 

Lucifer paused now, but only for a moment. “Tell you what, you ask Sam or Dean and tell them you want me to come and I’ll be there. Promise.” 

“Okay,” Kevin breathed out. “Okay.” 

Lucifer sighed and went and knocked on Sam’s door where all the yelling was coming from instantly the yelling stopped. 

“Kevin’s on the phone,” Lucifer said loud enough that he knew they could hear. 

“Ow,” Kevin hissed. “Don’t yell when you have the phone near your mouth.” 

“Sorry, still learning,” Lucifer said. 

The door wrenched open. It was Sam who was glaring at Lucifer. Lucifer offered him the phone and backed out. He left, deciding that being around wasn’t a good idea. He went back to his room and went to get the bag Dean had given him. He tossed some clothes in and a few books, thinking that maybe Kevin would like reading pulp crime novels. 

“You’re packing,” Dean said from the door. 

“The prophet asked me to come,” Lucifer said. “Some part of me remembers being an archangel. I’m supposed to help the prophet.” 

Dean sighed. “You realize Sam’s pissed, right?” 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. “But he’ll want to protect the prophet as well.” 

Dean shrugged his shoulders. “Well, you aren’t wrong. Finish getting packed, and remember to bring a toothbrush.” 

“Yes, sir,” Lucifer said sarcastically. He looked back at his bag and went back to packing.

* * *

The car ride was uncomfortable. Lucifer sat in the back seat and read, ignoring the stony silence between Sam and Dean broken only by Dean’s overly loud rock music. Lucifer would occasionally glanced up and look at the two brothers who seemed to spend most of the trip very specifically not looking at each other. 

Lucifer couldn’t stop himself from sighing at some point. Nice to know that hard headedness was an inherited trait. 

They arrived at a marina far too long after they’d left Kansas, in Lucifer’s opinion. Lucifer made to get out when Dean and Sam did but Sam turned and gave Lucifer a cold look. 

“You stay here,” Sam said. 

“I thought the prophet asked me to come,” Lucifer said. 

“Kevin asked you to come, but we’re going to see what’s going on first,” Dean said. “It’s not like you’re able to fight back if something attacks you.” 

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, looking at Dean like he wanted to stick his hand through his chest and pulled out his heart. Dean just smirked. 

“You stay here and practice that scary look of yours, Princess. Maybe someday you’ll actually be able to hurt someone with it.” And didn’t Dean sound far, far too smug about that. 

Both brothers slammed the doors and Lucifer was left sulking in the back seat. He grumbled and shoved his books back into his bag. He wasn’t a child and he wasn’t unknowledgeable about the world. He knew there were dangers. But he also wasn’t going to just be a good boy and sit in the car. 

He opened the back seat and got out. He was immediately assaulted by the sound of gulls and the smell of salt water. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but the newness of the experience and the feeling of outside air on his skin was pleasurable in its own way. 

He started to walk down the dock, going the opposite way that Sam and Dean had gone. He did make certain to not get too far away from the car, but he wanted to see the ocean. He stood at the edge, near a boat, staring out at the water. He couldn’t help the way his heart flipped over sadly. Look what these humans had done to one of his father’s great creations. They sullied the world with everything they did. 

“Lucifer!” Came Sam’s sharp words. 

Lucifer turned and walked back toward the car, only to see Sam walking toward Lucifer, looking absolutely furious. 

“What do you think you were doing being out of the car?” Sam demanded. 

“I was looking at the Ocean,” Lucifer said. 

“You were told to stay in the car,” Sam said, looking furious. 

“I was also told to stay out of the Garden of Eden,” Lucifer said. “We both know how well that went.” 

“What’s the matter with you?” Same demanded. 

“I don’t want you to turn into me, Sam,” Lucifer said. He suddenly felt very tired in his bones. “I don’t… I don’t think you were wrong to act like you acted. I don’t think punishing me was wrong. But I’m scared of what you’ll become in taking on the responsibility for punishing me. I’m afraid for you Sam. I know I would do anything for you. And in this case I’m going to protect you from this.” 

Sam sneered. “It’s nice that you think I need your protection or your help.” 

“I don’t know what fool thing you’re doing, but you have a prophet on a boat and he’s translating something for you,” Lucifer said. “And knowing you, I’d say that yes you do.” 

“You’re not Dean,” Sam said. “You’re not a hunter. You’re not a friend. You’re the… the thing that ruined my life, and now you want to help me?” He scoffed. 

Lucifer felt the hurt of the words. Sam was trying to hurt him. But he also understood that in that moment, it wasn’t Lucifer that Sam was actually angry at. He was angry at circumstance that put him in this place at this time. Sam was hurting too. 

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Lucifer said earnestly. “Will you let me check the wards on the prophet? I don’t want that slimey little worm of a salesman to get to him.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. He sounded very tired. “Let’s go.” He turned and led Lucifer toward the boat. 

Lucifer stuck close. He wanted to do this for Sam. He thought he could lift one burden off his shoulders, at least one.


	17. Chapter 17

Lucifer’s first opinion of the Prophet Kevin Tran was that the boy was made of tougher stuff than most angels were. He had the harried look about him of most prophets, all driven half mad by the presence of God’s glory within his skin. Kevin seemed particularly harried, though, like he wasn’t quiet taking care of himself. He looked physically frail and like a stiff wind could blow him over. But he also had something hard in his eyes. He was a mountain. The wind could howl. It may even break him down one day, but it would not be now or any time soon. And Kevin knew it. He knew that he may crush under the weight of what he carried, but it wouldn’t be today, and that meant for today he would fight.

Lucifer was very impressed by the young man who stood in front of him. 

“Are you Lucifer?” Kevin asked, eyeing Lucifer, assessing him for truth or signs of visible evil. Lucifer couldn’t help the way his lips quirked up into a smile. 

“I am,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He practically purred the words, making Kevin shiver. 

“Don’t torment him,” Dean said. 

“I wouldn’t be able to break him if I tried,” Lucifer said. He caught the surprise in Kevin’s gaze. Kevin was used to people treating him like he was fragile. He may even think of himself as fragile, which would be a real shame. 

“Okay, okay, enough flirting. Kevin said you thought you could fix the wards,” Dean said. 

“I can check them for cracks anyway,” Lucifer said. 

“Good,” Sam said. “We have an errand to run so you can stay here with Kevin for a while,” Sam said.   
Lucifer turned and looked at him, honestly stunned. Kevin was important. He was the Prophet of the Lord. He could decipher the Word of God. He was special, and not truly replaceable, though there were other Prophets in the line. There were also no archangels to protect Kevin. And yet Sam was going to leave Lucifer with him. Lucifer didn’t think he’d be able to kill Kevin, but he could harm him. 

He didn’t understand why Sam was trusting him, but he was honestly touched. 

“Of, of course,” Lucifer said, trying to sound like he wasn’t absolutely floored. “I’ll get my bag then?”

“Nah, I’ll do it,” Dean said. “You kids play nice,” he said and then flounced out. 

That left Lucifer alone with Sam and Kevin, both of whom were staring at him. 

Lucifer shifted his shoulders a bit and then turned to begin examining the wards. He swept his eyes around the boat. It sunk in just how very small the place was. 

“You live here all the time?” Lucifer asked.

“It’s safer,” Kevin said in resigned bitterness. 

“And quiet,” Lucifer said. He looked around at all the symbols, all made to keep how demons and all sorts of other things that went bump in the night. Some were drawn in paint. Others were drawn in blood. Lucifer wondered if he wouldn’t seem half as crazed as Kevin in such a place. 

“Yeah, better to get work done,” Kevin said in a tone that was every bit as bitter and resigned. 

“Sam, can I talk to you for a moment?” Lucifer asked. “Now,” he added more urgently. He turned and looked at Sam who’d clearly been thinking about something else, lost in thought. He saw the way Sam’s eyes snapped back into focus and seemed to suddenly see him again. 

Lucifer grabbed his wrist and tugged. Sam could bodily slam Lucifer into a wall if he wanted. He’d been gaining weight back and muscle just from the use of moving around the bunker a lot. But Sam exercised and fought regularly. Sam wasn’t going to go anywhere with Lucifer if he didn’t want. 

So maybe it surprised Lucifer that he’d even tried. It definitely surprised Lucifer when Sam allowed himself to be tugged out of the boat and back onto the dock.

“What?” Sam asked a little dumbly. 

I know the Prophets of God have suffered by my Father’s commands, but I don’t think that this boy has been ordered to do so. He hasn’t been ordered to lay face down in the first for weeks at a time, has he?” 

“What? Of course not,” Sam said, spluttering a bit. “What are you talking about?” 

“You remember my warehouse?” Lucifer asked. “This is literally worse.” 

Sam winced. He looked back at the boat. “We moved him here before we had any other safe place.” 

“Yeah, well now you do,” Lucifer said flatly. 

Sam sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “We hadn’t thought about it before,” he admitted. 

“Why not?” Lucifer asked. 

“Because, honestly?” Sam asked. He paused for a moment, but Lucifer just waited for him to answer. “Because I don’t think me or Dean really expected to be able to keep it. We haven’t really had a place, not since Bobby’s place got exploded… and then the cabin… and this place is just-”

“Too good to be true,” Lucifer said. “Warded better than any place on earth, filled with knowledge and artifacts. I understand.” 

Sam nodded. “Yeah,” he said. He sighed and looked past Lucifer toward the boat. 

“What are you two doing out here?” Dean asked, walking back from the car with Lucifer’s bag slung over his shoulder. 

“After this… after, we have to bring Kevin back with us,” Sam said. 

“We are?” Dean asked. He gave Lucifer a perplexed look. 

“Lucifer’s right,” Sam said. Just hearing that made Lucifer feel a certain warm burst in his chest. “Kevin’s important, and this is safe, but it’s not as safe as the bunker. And it’s tiny and cramped.” 

“And Lonely,” Lucifer said. “Creatures aren’t made to be constantly alone, especially not the sentient beings.” 

Dean looked between the two of them. “Well, I don’t have a problem with it. We got our thing we gotta do, and we’ll cart Kevin back with us when we leave. Fair?” 

“Fair,” Lucifer said. He reached out for his bag, which Dean slipped right off his shoulder and handed to Lucifer. 

Lucifer headed back inside with his bag. When he got in he couldn’t see Kevin. He blinked and slowly set down his bag. “Kevin?” 

“In here,” Kevin’s muffle voice could be heard from one of the ports. 

“What are you doing in there?” Lucifer asked. 

“Safer,” Kevin’s muffled voice said. 

“Ah,” Lucifer said. “I’m going to check the wards.” 

“Kev?” Dean asked, stepping into the boat. “Sam and I are going to see about the… thing. Anyway, we’ll be back in a few days. If you need anything you can Send Lucifer to get it. Right Luce?” 

“Don’t call me that, Winchester, not when I know where you sleep,” Lucifer said in the most pleasant tone he could muster. 

Kevin snorted out a laugh which could be heard even through the door. 

“You’re gonna regret that later,” Dean warned. “You better take care of Kevin.” 

“Yes, yes, will do,” Lucifer said. 

“I mean it-” Dean started, clearly starting to gear up with righteous indignation. Lucifer held up a hand, halting Dean before he could get started. 

“Archangels protect Prophets. In the absence of any other one, the duty falls to me. I may be fallen and human, but it’s still a duty I won’t take lightly.” Lucifer spoke quietly, calmly and directly. 

Dean blinked a bit and then nodded. “Okay. Here.” He pulled a bit of cash out of his wallet. “Go buy food for you both at some point.” 

“Will do,” Lucifer said. 

“See Ya, Kevin,” Dean called, then he walked out. 

Lucifer went back to examining the wards. He didn’t any that were that bad. He made a few tiny changes and added a warding symbol or two that he didn’t see, but he thought would improve it. He also left Kevin alone to come out on his own. 

Kevin did slink out of the port, which turned out to be a closet, eventually. He moved back to the table, back to his spread of notes and a slate sitting on the table. 

“Did you check the wards?” Kevin asked. “Are they okay?” 

“They’re sound,” Lucifer said. “I strengthened couple, and added a few. This is as safe as you can be here.” 

“Yeah,” Kevin said weakly. 

“Try not to worry so much, okay?” Lucifer asked, offering Kevin a smile. 

“How can I not?” Kevin asked. 

Lucifer came over and pulled over an extra chair. “Given everything I imagine it wouldn’t be easy, but when this errand is over, Sam and Dean agreed to bring you back with us. The bunker is probably the safest place in the world.” 

Kevin snorted. “I’m not certain if you’ve noticed, but the Winchesters are a walking disaster area that destroys everyone in their wake.” 

“Believe me I know it,” Lucifer said. “I’m one of their victims. But as long as they don’t purposefully welcome evil across their door step, the bunker is safe. Think of it like being in the eye off the storm. You’re safe as long as you stay there.” 

“Your metaphors are morbid,” Kevin muttered.

“Absolutely,” Lucifer said cheerfully. He looked over at the table, and the slab. “Is that the Word of God?” 

“Yeah, you wanna see it?” Kevin asked, offering Lucifer the tablet. 

Lucifer took it. It him it just seemed like stone. It didn’t have any almighty feel. There was a twinge of sadness in his heart knowing that. Maybe it would have felt like just stone to him if he’d been an angel, but he would never know now. 

“Is it broken?” 

“Crowley has the other half,” Kevin said. 

“He must love that,” Lucifer said.

“He’s been looking for me,” Kevin said. “He killed my friend. He tried to kidnap my mom and I. He cut off my finger. Doesn’t matter that it got reattached.” 

Lucifer nodded and made a sympathetic noise. “Lilith absolutely adored him.” 

“Did you know him? You know, when you were…”

“Evil?” Lucifer offered with a smirk. He saw Kevin gulp a bit. “I tried to have him killed. He was trying to fight against my plans… without him this world may well have been free of all humans.” 

“That’s so comforting,” Kevin said. He tugged the tablet out of Lucifer’s hand. 

“Yes, well, the world spins round and round, doesn’t it?” Lucifer said, feeling a touch wistful. “Things change. The worm clearly doesn’t want the end of the world. But he’s power hungry.” 

“You have no idea,” Kevin said. “One time he kidnapped all the possible Prophets who weren’t me when he was trying to get me to translate the tablet for him.” 

“You’re very strong, Kevin. Strong in spirt.” 

“How do you know that?” Kevin asked. “You don’t really know me. You can’t see me with your angel vision.” 

“Yes, but I do know a thing or two about isolation and torture,” Lucifer said. “I broke. I broke a million times over. I just rebuilt myself over and over. I forged myself on anger. I ripped up everything I’d valued except for my anger. I said to myself that if that injustice had been committed to me, the one that kept me from the place and people I loved, then I would visit it upon everyone else. Then I would at least have earth for myself… I’d be alone, but there would be birds and animals and plants… I cut up myself into the smallest part I could. And that was all I planned to keep.” 

Kevin was silent for a moment. Lucifer looked at him and Kevin looked back. Lucifer shrugged where he knew Kevin could see. He knew he wasn’t what people expected. They had preconceived notion about what evil should look like. He’d embraced the label, but not the charge. 

Now though? Seeing it on Sam, that anger, Lucifer wondered about what he’d really become. 

“That sounds very lonely,” Kevin said. 

“Yeah,” Lucifer said. “It was.” He sat up, leaned forward a bit. He smiled at Kevin, but it was a pained smile. “I had… Sam was made for me. My perfect vessel. My father’s last gift to me, you see?” Lucifer laughed bitterly. “Made for me. He was supposed to understand me. I was told that. He would understand me. I would have him. He would say yes. And once I killed those who’d hurt me, once everyone else was gone, I would have someone still… I loved him because I didn’t have anything else to love… I’d been made of love, once. I was made of my father’s love. His love made me powerful.” 

“I’m sorry,” Kevin said. “About Sam, about all of it.” 

“Yeah,” Lucifer said. He wondered if it would be too on the nose to hum “Sympathy for the Devil”. He decided against it. 

“Sam never said yes,” Kevin said. 

“Oh, he did say yes,” Lucifer said. He laughed again and it was too loud and too brittle. “He had this fool plan to overpower me. He’d say yes and then toss us both into the pit and that would be the end of The End.” 

“Is that what happened?” Kevin asked, cocking his head to one side. 

“He broke me… again. He fought so hard against me. No matter what I did for him he found me vile and repulsive and awful. And I walked onto the battle field. Gabriel was dead already. Sam, my promised friend, despised me, and there was Michael, ready to kill me even though I offered to stand down.” Lucifer laughed again. “And then here comes Dean Winchester, and his friends Castiel and Bobby Singer. These people… they loved Sam so much.” 

“And you were alone,” Kevin said. 

Lucifer nodded. “And then I started beating Dean bloody for getting in my way. I’d killed Castiel, I thought. Michael was gone for a moment. And I was so angry. This wasn’t anything like what I’d been planning for, for most of my life. And Sam’s screaming and fighting and begging for me to stop… and then I stopped. Because I’d wanted to give him everything. I was willing to save the people he cared about. I was willing to do anything for him to love me, for someone to just love me… and then I knew that no one ever would… one second of weakness and Sam broke through. He used me, used my strength to drag Michael and I both into the cage.” 

Kevin was staring at him. Lucifer didn’t have to look up to know that he was. He didn’t look up. 

“How do you keep going?” Kevin finally asked him. Lucifer looked up then. Kevin just looked rather gutted. Whatever Lucifer had said clearly made Kevin think of what he’d been through. 

“Well… used to be anger. Now… I don’t know… an apology I guess. But that’s not that helpful, is it?” 

“No,” Kevin said. He sighed and ran both hands through his hair. “I just… Crowley’s in my head, Sam and Dean expect me to be able to translate all of this when I only have half the text. My life is just over.” 

“It’s not over,” Lucifer said, trying to sound different. “Believe me, it isn’t. It’s just different.” 

“Are you going to tell me it gets better?” Kevin scoffed. 

“Where I am is… better, in a strange way, to where I have been… not from Heaven, but from the Pit and before they welcomed me into the Bunker. It is better. I don’t know if it always will be. But you’re not alone now, okay? You’ll have people around and more space, and resources.” 

“Yeah,” Kevin said. He glared at the tablet and then chucked it across the room. Lucifer winced aat the sound of the clatter. “I hate this thing!” He shouted. 

“What do you want to do?” Lucifer asked. 

“I want to get rid of it! I don’t want it near me,” Kevin said. 

“Fair,” Lucifer said. He stood up and went and got thee tablet. “I think you could use some outside air. Come on.” 

Kevin gave him a very confused look. “Where are we going?” 

“To hide this thing,” Lucifer said. “Away from you. So you don’t have to look at it for a while.” 

“Really?” Kevin asked. 

“Sam and Dean are going to be gone for a few days. I don’t see why not,” Lucifer said, opening the hatch. “Shall we?” 

Kevin let out a shaky sigh. Then he smiled a little. “Yeah, let’s go. I could use a walk.” 

“That’s the spirit,” Lucifer said, opening the door. 

He let Kevin walk past him and then walked out after him. The outside world always made Lucifer feel better. Kevin didn’t need to feel so claustrophobic. Given how good the wards were, Lucifer was certain Crowley didn’t know where Kevin was. They’d hide thee tablet until Sam and Dean got back. Then they’d grab it had head back to the Bunker. The walk would do them good.

* * *

The past few days had been rough. Between seeing Bobby, being trapped in Purgatory, and then Benny? Sam was absolutely exhausted. And then there was the great unsaid. After the fight they’d been having, Sam half expected Dean to bring it back up on the drive back to Kevin. But Dean had been absolutely quiet on the drive back, for the most part. Sam didn’t really want to talk about it. But he also wanted it to stop hanging over them. And when Lucifer and Kevin joined them, Sam wouldn’t have a chance to talk about it. He wanted to get it over with and not have witnesses to the conversation. 

“Dean, about earlier,” Sam said. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re sorry about Benny, again,” Dean said. 

“No. Before that, back at the Bunker,” Sam started. Then he stopped, not really sure what to say next.

“Look, Sam,” Dean cut in. Sam didn’t mind. He didn’t really have his words together yet anyway. Dean sounded so tired too, and Sam didn’t want to step on his words, because he wasn’t certain Dean would start again. “You remember when I got out of Hell? And I just couldn’t really function right because I was remembering what I’d done?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Sam said, trying to encourage Dean to keep speaking. He rarely talked about Hell. Not that Sam talked about Hell much either. Thought it turned out he couldn’t really distinguish fact and fiction of what happened down there. What Lucifer said had made sense. Pamela’s eyes had been burnt out when she tried to see Castiel. Sam couldn’t imagine what being around two archangels would have done to him. 

“Yeah, well… I don’t want you to have to be like that. Soulless you was a little… well, I won’t say torture-y, but he got shit done no matter what it took. Soulless you would have killed Lucifer without a question. He wouldn’t have worried, or quibbled.” 

“Dean-” Sam started.

“Let me finish,” Dean said, raising his voice just a bit. Then he went back to that tired sound. “Lucifer said he didn’t want you to be like him, all full of anger and taking out what happened on the people who’d hurt you. I mean, you saw how many ways that’s exploded in his face. And I don’t want you to be like me, where you can’t even sleep some nights because you’re reliving torturing someone. You got real close. You nearly killed him. But for whatever reason he’s not even angry about it… God, I would give anything, anything to be able to apologize to my victims. Even knowing they’re all probably demons that can’t even be saved now… I still want to apologize… I don’t want you to be me, Sam. And I don’t want you to be Lucifer. So please, you gotta stop.” 

Sam took a deep breath, and then let it out. It came out shaky. He licked his lips. They were chapped. His body was worn. Even his soul felt tired. He could feel the effects of the second trials already beginning to worm into his body. 

“You’re right, Dean,” Sam said. “And Lucifer’s right, although I hate to say that out loud.” 

Dean chuckled a little. “It doesn’t do much for me either.” 

“He’s human now… He’ll probably go to Hell anyway… I don’t need to be the one to do it,” Sam said. The thought of Lucifer in Hell again made him feel uncomfortable. It jarred him a bit to realize it wasn’t because he was thinking of Lucifer there as King of Hell again. He was thinking of Lucifer weak, cold, and hungry, like he’d been in the warehouse. 

“Shit,” Sam said, bending over. “I can’t believe I did that. How in the world can he forgive me for that?” 

“No idea, Sammy. But he does. And he wants to take care of Kevin, and he’s happy to help us out. This wouldn’t be how I’d have it. But It is what it is.” 

“Yeah,” Sam said. “I’ll talk to him once we get back to the Bunker.” 

“Good plan,” Dean said. He parked the car at the marina. 

They pair of them got out and headed into the boat. It was completely dark, completely silent, and the door was open. 

“Kevin?” Sam called. “Lucifer?” He couldn’t help but feel uneasy. 

All the wards were completely in place, but everything was gone. All of the notes and papers were gone, anyway. Sam ducked into the bedroom. He poked around. He couldn’t find any of Kevin’s clothes. 

“Did they run off?” Sam asked. 

“No,” Dean said. “Lucifer left his duffle. All his stuff’s here. All his clothes, all his books.” 

That made Sam’s blood go a bit cold. Lucifer cherished all of his books, especially the ones Sam had given him. Sam knew that Lucifer had brought the Shakespeare book with him. He wouldn’t have left that behind. 

“Do you think…? Kevin said that Crowley had been in his dreams,” Sam said. He walked back to where Dean was. Dean had Lucifer’s bag open on the table, and he was digging through it. In one of his hands was the Shakespeare book. Sam’s heart sank. 

“I don’t know, Sammy. I just don’t know,” Dean said.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: torture and dub-con.

Lucifer woke up to a sharp, awful pain in his side. He gasped hard. His eyes snapped open. The very first thing he focused on was the last person he wanted to see, Crowley in one of his stupid, worldly black suits. Lucifer bared his teeth and lunged toward him, only to choke when the binds around him held him tight. 

Lucifer glared harder, but he stopped and actually took stock of the situation. He was bound very securely to a metal chair, which he suspected was bolted down. Iron cuffs were in three places on his arms and legs. He could feel them when he shifted. When he turned his head a bit he felt the press of something like a metal collar locking his neck securely to the metal chair. He kept his panic down. He’d survived worse. Not as a human, but he had survived worse. 

He cast his eyes around the room. Crowley was there, looking smug, of course. Lucifer couldn’t see much in the room except that it was fairly dark. He heard movement off to his left, so he knew someone else was in the room. But he wasn’t going to scramble to see who it was. He wasn’t going to give Crowley the satisfaction. 

“My, my,” Crowley said, starting to smile in an evil and gleeful way. “Here I thought I would only bag a prophet and I get this lovely little treat as well. Looks like it’s my lucky day.” 

“Where’s Kevin?” Lucifer asked. He realized his mistake immediately. Crowley looked terribly amused. 

“Taken care of. I need him to do what a prophet does,” Crowley said. “Now you, on the other hand.” 

There was a rush and then pain. A sharp cry was wrenched out of Lucifer’s mouth. Then he clamped down. He looked down and saw and angel blade sticking out of his gut. He did look over at who wielded it. He could tell it was an angel, though he couldn’t tell which one now that he was human. It hardly mattered since basically every angel would be lining up to do the same to him. 

The angel pulled the blade out and the wound healed. Lucifer would feel it heal now that he was awake enough to think and understand. Healing was a relief. But a slow kind of horror creeped up Lucifer’s throat. Sam didn’t like making him bleed. Lucifer mostly got spankings or whipped with a belt when it was Sam. But the angels and demons would have no problem making him bleed, pushing him until he begged for death and then healing him completely back to normal. They could keep him alive until the end of time and there was nothing Lucifer could do about it. 

Lucifer smiled at the angel. “You know daddy threw me into the Cage for consorting with demons, and I was his favorite. Imagine what he’d do to you.” 

“I’ll cut out your serpent’s tongue,” the angel hissed. He gripped Lucifer’s jaw. Lucifer didn’t have much choice of resisting. The angel broke his jaw, which drew a pained moan from Lucifer. Then the angel grabbed his tongue. 

“Inias,” Crowley said boredly. Ion stopped. 

“You heard what he said,” Ion said, sounding so broken. 

“So what? He’s a broken shell of what he once was. His words are his only defense,” Crowley said. Lucifer could hear the pity there, past the pain that was nearly deafening. “Now, heal him. We don’t want to end this too soon. And he needs his tongue. I want to hear him beg.” 

Ion healed Lucifer and then stepped back. 

“You’re very sure of yourself,” Lucifer said. He worked his jaw a bit. It didn’t hurt anymore, but Lucifer wouldn’t put it past Ion to heal him incorrectly. 

“I am very good at this,” Crowley said. “You will be begging before long.” 

“I bet your right,” Lucifer said, showing his teeth. He always broke down with Sam, every single time. “But let’s see how long it takes you.”

* * *

Lucifer didn’t know how time passed. Ion was an easily manipulated fool, but he was also very good at what he did. Lucifer heard him say at one point that he’d been part of Naomi’s reprograming squad. Lucifer didn’t pity the poor fools who’d been under their care. Because Ion was good.

No matter what they did to him he didn’t even get close to dying. 

He did beg, though. He begged a lot. And he cried. He did other things too. He’d do about anything to make the pain stop. A part of him burned with shame. Another recognized that trying to fight back was futile and that the best he could do would just be try to bare through it. 

He didn’t let himself think of his bed back in the bunker, or of Dean. He didn’t let himself think about Kevin much, except that Lucifer hoped that Sam and Dean would find him. He didn’t pray, though, more afraid of his prayers being answered than anything else. 

He thought about Sam a lot. It was a bitter pill to swallow to know that Sam hadn’t even needed to dirty his soul for torture. It was odd to think fondly of the warehouse and his books, and starvation. Getting his insides ripped out over and over and fed to him could do that. Lucifer never wanted to eat again. 

Not that he would at this rate. 

Lucifer got a rare moment alone. He leaned back against the chairs and closed his eyes. He wasn’t really in Hell. He did know Hell if he didn’t know anything else. Hell was longer and heavier than wherever Crowley had him. The King’s prerogative. It wasn’t like Lucifer spent a lot of time in hell once he’d been let out. 

Not being in hell meant that Lucifer knew that whatever was happening to him was happening in real time. It wasn’t being dragged out. It wasn’t years passing. It was days, maybe weeks. Sure, it was endless. Sure, Lucifer was so sleep deprived he would cry, except that his tears were for pain now. But years weren’t passing. It was earth. It was slow and endless. 

Someone stuck him with something sharp and Lucifer snapped his eyes open. He realized he must have been asleep. He was very good at being alert and keeping an ear out for when someone may approach him. Demons and Ion both loved surprises. The only time Lucifer was surprised anymore was when he fell asleep. 

Waking up to the image of Crowley cleaning a knife he’d just stuck into Lucifer’s side was not Lucifer’s idea of a good way to wake up. 

“Well, now that I have an idea of just what you can withstand, I think it’s time the two of us had a chat,” Crowley said in his gravely little voice. Lucifer had the mental image of biting out Crowley’s voice box. It was an appealing thought. That was probably why he had the iron collar, though. 

“Not certain chatting with you will be any more fun than chatting with Ion. He certainly does whine a lot while he rips me apart,” Lucifer said with his best feral smile. “Ahh, now there’s the real torture.” 

He saw the way Crowley’s lips twitched in an amused smirk. “Nice to know that nothing we’ve done yet has cured you of that sass. I’m not surprised of course.” 

“Of course,” Lucifer said. “What do you want?” 

“You should show your King some respect,” Crowley said. He opened a cut on Lucifer’s cheek in one fast slice. Lucifer hissed in pain while Crowley cleaned his knife. 

“Not my King,” Lucifer said. “I don’t have a King and never have and never will.” He could feel hot warmth start to run down his cheek. 

“Now, now, Darling,” Crowley cooed. “You were the one who begged to clean my shoes with that pretty mouth of yours.” 

Lucifer felt his cheeks flush with shame. He did what he had to in order to survive. He’d done that. He’d bent over and took it from a number of demons already, old loyal hands who remembered him, and he ripped him up out of hatred for what he’d become. So far Crowley hadn’t asked Lucifer to him to hurt anyone. Though Lucifer suspected that Crowley wouldn’t. 

Lucifer wouldn’t care about hurting someone else. He cared more about the tatters his pride was in. He cared more about his own pain. 

“Look at you,” Crowley said. “Bleeding and bent up, but not broken. I can make things much easier on you.” 

Lucifer hesitated for a moment. “What do you want?” he asked in a quiet voice. 

“The Winchester.” 

“No,” Lucifer said flatly. Dean had saved him the last time Lucifer had been in a bad place. And Sam was… No. He’d never do it. 

“You want to rethink that?” Crowley asked. He snapped his fingers and demons same in carrying a large bowl and stand. Inside the bowl were hot coals, and the long stems of iron instruments. In their wake came Ion. Lucifer felt his stomach drop out.

“No,” Lucifer said, clenching his teeth. 

“Get him up,” Crowley said. “And over the table. Pants off.” 

Lucifer did struggle. He snarled and tried to bite the demons who got him out of the binds in his chair. Crowley kept him clothed, but only to add to the humiliation when the demons harshly pulled his clothes on and off, only at the King’s command. Lucifer knew that fighting wasn’t going to help, but he already knew what was to come and he was terrified. 

The ripped of his pants and left them on the table, out of reach but in sight. They shoved him down on the table and bound him there with iron restraints. His arms were forced out wide. Two of the iron restraints snapped shut over his back, and another over his waist. His legs and bottom hung off the table. His feet were cuffed to the ground. The last restraint locked around his neck, keeping his head turned where Lucifer could see his pants, and also Crowley. 

Crowley had demons dressing him in an apron and gloves. He was standing by the large bowl of hot coals. The fire and been coaxed back to life under it. Crowley, still smirking, pulled a long metal poker from the coals. It was red hot. 

Lucifer was sweating all over. He couldn’t imagine how this was going to hurt.

“You can make this stop at any time,” Crowley said. “All you have to do is say Yes.” He walked up behind Lucifer, resting a hand on Lucifer’s bottom. His touch was far too gentle and the gloves were rough. Crowley pulled one of Lucifer’s cheeks aside and waited for Lucifer’s answer.

Lucifer closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he opened them again, his expression was hardened. 

“No,” he said. 

“Very well,” Crowley said, sounding almost gleeful.

The pain was even worse than what Lucifer imagined. And the smell of burning flesh completely filled the room, as did Lucifer’s screams.

* * *

Sam knew he wasn’t really right. He was trying, but he couldn’t stop sleeping and he couldn’t stop just wanting to fall down. And worse was that he couldn’t stop obsessing. It was probably terrible that what Sam was obsessing over wasn’t that they couldn’t figure out what the last trial was. And it wasn’t that Kevin was gone and probably taken by Crowley, or just run off. It was Lucifer. 

And it wasn’t even just Lucifer. It wasn’t that Lucifer was out running around out in the world. It was that if Crowley had Kevin, then Crowley had Lucifer. It was that Lucifer wouldn’t answer his phone. It was that Lucifer had disappeared before Sam could apologize to Lucifer and thank him for trying to protect him. 

Sam had wanted to be better. The trials were pushing him to be better, to be purer. He thought anyway. 

Kevin’s message showing up just sent Sam into a spiral of guilt. 

He’d felt guilty before. He’d been burning with it. He felt guilty for what he’d done to Lucifer, and for not being strong enough to worse. He didn’t know how Lucifer could just forgive him, not be afraid of him. Sam was afraid of himself. He knew what lay under his skin now, even with a soul in his body. 

Sam watched the road pass by as they drove out to Colorado. He could barely keep himself together enough to stay awake, but his worry kept him from closing his eyes. He was pretending to sleep, though. Crowley had Kevin, probably had Lucifer. What would the demons do to him? Sam had let this happen by letting Lucifer come with them. If he ever got Lucifer back, he was never letting Lucifer out of the Bunker again. It was too dangerous. 

If only Sam’s head would stop pounding. If only they could just do the last trial and finish it so they could lock Crowley up and away. Then Kevin wouldn’t have to be a prophet anymore. And Lucifer wouldn’t have to be hurt by demons. 

Sam closed his eyes and fell asleep for a little while. He dreamed about Lucifer being back at the Bunker, waiting for them with cookies again, looking nervous and determined. Determined to help, determined to be better, determined to prove to Sam that Sam was better than Lucifer. 

He dreamed and dreamed until Dean woke him when they arrived at the Casino in Colorado.


	19. Chapter 19

Sam could barely, barely sit still through Metatron’s little speech. It started with the lie that he told about Lucifer. He’d said ‘Gone’ when Metatron asked if they were working for Lucifer or Michael. And Sam felt his stomach drop at the idea. Somehow the Devil had become a normal part of his every day, and the idea of him not being there anymore was just gut wrenching. 

And Metatron would just not shut up about stories. He was happy to sit back and just watch and not participate at all. Somehow one of the players on the board with the most knowledge had just run off. He wasn’t even like God who came back to play only when he felt like it. God saved the Winchesters’ lives before, and Castiel’s life twice, and he’d brought Lucifer back and given him right to Sam. 

And Sam had abused him. 

If the trials were really purifying him he needed to make it right to Lucifer. 

If he could ever get him home. 

“You know what? Shoot me,” Sam snapped, standing up. 

“What?” Dean asked, sounding worried. 

“What?” Metatron asked, slack jawed and looking vaguely terrified when Sam pointed the shotgun at his chest. 

“Just shoot me. Shoot me right here. Because you know what? While you were sitting around here reading your books there have been people out there getting ripped apart, but life, by monsters, by your people even,” Sam said. He didn’t care that he was shouting or that he could barely think over the high pitched scream of him resonating with Metatron. 

“Sam,” Dean started, he could feel Dean standing at his side, trying to push the shotgun down, but Sam just tightened his grip. 

“No, Dean,” Sam said. “Kevin’s dead, and if Crowley really had Kevin, you know he got Lucifer too. Lucifer was too protective of Kevin to let him go. What do you thinks happening if Crowley got Lucifer.” 

“Sam,” Dean said. He sighed and looked at Metatron, who had literally dropped the shotgun. 

“I thought you said that Lucifer was gone,” Metatron said in accusing tone. 

“He’s human, jackass,” Dean said. “You know what, Sam’s right. You run off and live a life in hiding, just letting life go away. But people like us are out in the trenches. People like Kevin Tran, a normal kid who suddenly gets all wrapped up in this angel shit when it turns out, oh gee, that he’s a prophet of the Lord. And Lucifer got a second chance, is human and has tried to be helpful and better. He even decides that since all the other archangels are gone that he’s going to protect the prophet. And what does that get him? They’ve both been captured by the King of Hell. And Crowley’s a real piece of work too.” 

“Why are you angry at me?” Metatron demanded. “What can I even do?” 

“You can get Lucifer back,” Sam said. “And see if you can at least find out what happened to Kevin.” 

“Is that what you want from me?” Metatron asked quietly. 

“Yes,” Sam snapped.

“Okay,” Metatron said. “I can try… Lucifer’s really human?” 

“Very,” Dean assured him. “He eat, sleeps, shits and everything.” 

Metatron gave another put upon sigh and disappeared. For a second there was a sweet relief of no high pitched screeching.

“Sam?” Dean asked. 

“We have to get him back,” Sam said. “I have to apologize. I have to make it right.” 

“Sam, Lucifer forgave you… like forever ago,” Dean said. 

“I know, but I still have to,” Sam insisted. 

There was a rush and Metatron returned with Kevin. He looked banged up. And when Metatron placed a hand on Kevin he healed right up. 

“Kevin?” Dean asked, going to kneel next to Kevin and check to see if he was even still alive.

“Where’s Lucifer?” Sam asked. He hated how weak his own voice sounded to him, maybes especially because the noise came back in full force. 

“It’s more complicated… I’m not completely certain why he’s alive. It might be kinder to let him die,” Metatron said. 

“No,” Sam said. “He wouldn’t want that… just please.” 

“Okay,” Metatron said. Then he was gone again. 

Sam turned back and looked at Kevin, who was starting to come around. 

“Sam? Dean?” Kevin asked. 

“Yeah, we’re here,” Dean said. He gave Kevin’s shoulder a squeeze. 

“I got it,” Kevin said. He pulled the other half of the demon tablet from his shirt. He smiled in a broad way. “I got it right from under Crowley’s nose. And I didn’t tell him. I know what the third trial is.” 

“Really?” Sam demanded. “What is it?” 

“To cure a demon,” Metatron said. 

Sam whipped around, barely staying up. Lucifer was bloody. Hell, Sam understood instantly why Metatron wasn’t certain that he was even alive. Metatron was holding Lucifer up. Lucifer didn’t even seem to be conscious. 

Metatron slowly lowered Lucifer down to the floor. Sam dropped to his knees next to him. Metatron slowly opened his palm and placed it on Lucifer’s forehead. The blood and injury were scrubbed away in a second from Lucifer’s body, hair and clothes. But the memories would stay. 

But Lucifer didn’t wake up. 

“He’s not waking up,” Sam said, trying not to panic. 

“Give him a moment,” Metatron said in a careful voice. 

Sam was about to say something when Lucifer gasped awake and sat up right. 

“Lucifer?” Sam asked. He rested a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. He tried anyway, but Lucifer wrenched away and glared at Sam. That only lasted for a second. Lucifer’s whole face crumpled. 

“Sam?” Lucifer asked in this terribly broken voice. 

Sam reached out and drew Lucifer against his chest. “Yeah, it’s me,” Sam said. “We came back and you and Kevin were gone.” 

“Crowley, he-” Lucifer started. “Is Kevin okay?” 

“I’m okay,” Kevin said. 

Lucifer twisted in Sam’s arms to look at Kevin. He looked relieved. “I’m sorry,” he said. 

“What happened to you two?” Dean asked. 

“Lucifer suggested we hide the other half of the Demon Tablet… good thing too, because Crowley didn’t get it,” Kevin said. He was smiling with a certain amount of relief. 

Sam felt Lucifer shift in his hold a bit and he focused back on Lucifer. Lucifer was pressing into him. In fact he’d started to shake a little bit. He was looking at Metatron like he’d just noticed him for the first time. 

Lucifer looked completely terrified. His shaking tripled until he was shaking from head to toe. 

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked. “What did you do?” he demanded of Metatron who hands up.” 

“I brought him back like you asked. That’s all I did,” Metatron protested. 

Lucifer turned and pressed his face into Sam’s shoulder. “Can we go home?” Lucifer asked in a weak voice. 

That voice made something painful shoot through Sam. He thought of Lucifer after a punishment, ashamed and hurt and afraid of him, bowing down to try and make the pain stop. 

“Of course, Lucifer,” Sam said. “Let’s go home.” 

“Yeah, come on kid,” Dean said. “You’re moving into the Bunker with us.” 

Sam stood, trying to help Lucifer up as best he could, but his legs still weren’t working right. He stumbled, thinking he was about to fall down and take Lucifer with him. But Lucifer grabbed onto him tight and kept them both upright. 

“Sam, are you okay?” Lucifer asked, sounding really worried. “You don’t look well.” 

“Not really,” Sam said with a little smile. “I’m better now, though,” he said. He put his arm around Lucifer again. Lucifer froze at the touch for a moment before he relaxed. 

“What happened?” Lucifer asked. 

“Got you back,” Sam said. 

Lucifer looked confused for a moment. Then he smiled a little and shook his head. “Home. You’re sick and need to be in bed.”

* * *

It didn’t take expressly long to pack them up and load them into the car. Dean swapped numbers with Metatron, just in case. Sam’s head was still ringing whenever he got too close to Metatron. And besides that there was Lucifer to tend to. Even though Sam felt like he was falling apart he could focus on taking care of Lucifer. 

Lucifer who absolutely trembled all over from fear whenever Metatron even looked at him and who spent a certain amount of time with his face pressed into Sam’s shirt until they were away from Metatron. 

For once, Sam opted to take the back seat and give Kevin the front. Kevin dozed in the front seat while Lucifer slept in the back. Lucifer curled up as tight as he could and kept his head in Sam’s lap. Sam knew from experience sleeping like that couldn’t be that comfortable. Worse was that Lucifer whimpered whenever Sam stopped stroking his hair and face. So Sam didn’t stop. He’d never been more intimately acquainted with another man’s beard in his life, but at that point he was so far beyond caring it wasn’t even funny. 

Dean kept the music on low for once, which allowed for some silence to allow the two kidnapped men time to rest, but didn’t really allow much talking. Sam knew that Dean was probably bursting to talk about the next trial. In truth, Sam was too, but not so much to disturb Lucifer or to really actually want to speak. 

“Is he okay?” Kevin asked after a couple of hours of driving. He had apparently woken up recently. He was yawning and rubbing his eyes, but he’d also turned around in his seat. 

“I don’t think so,” Sam said. He moved his hand down to rub Lucifer’s shoulders, easing some of the tension that had started to build there. “What happened?” 

“We went out, like I said,” Kevin said. “We’d buried the tablet, and we were almost back to the boat. Lucifer kept talking about the beauty of the outside world enough that I was honestly thinking about strangling him.” He sounded vaguely fond. “Next thing we know there were people around us. Lucifer got it first. He put himself between me and them. He told me to run home… back to the boat. And I did. Thing was that Crowley came himself, and I almost got to the boat, but he got there first.” 

Sam looked down at Lucifer, who had only just started to look healthy again, but who was now too skinny again. Sam knew that Lucifer didn’t know how to fight, not with a human body. And maybe the way he’d known how to fight went away with whatever gaps came in the memories that came from losing his grace. 

And still Lucifer hadn’t hesitated to put Kevin first. 

“He protected the prophet,” Sam said. 

“Crowley liked gloating,” Kevin said. “He tried to trick me into thinking I was on the boat, and it worked for a while, but I figured it out. I remembered, and when I did I asked about Lucifer.” 

Sam looked up at Kevin who had these very sad eyes. Sam swallowed. “What did he say?” 

Kevin shivered a bit. “I told him that I wouldn’t break this time, and that he knew I wouldn’t break. And he said that everyone breaks. Always. He told me that Lucifer broke, that he did everything Crowley asked, let anyone touch him or do anything to him they wanted.” The face Kevin made told Sam that Crowley had been a lot more graphic. Kevin’s eyes flicked down to Lucifer’s face. “He said that Lucifer was going to tell him secrets about you two, because he’d broken before… but I got that he hadn’t broken yet. I don’t really know what all happened, but you know…” he trailed off. 

“Hell specializes in torture,” Dean said. Both Sam and Kevin suddenly focused on Dean, whose hands had tightened their grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. “Even if Crowley doesn’t. He definitely has people on the payroll who do.” 

Sam knew that Dean was thinking about when he’d been the one on the payroll. Though it hadn’t been Crowley in charge then. At the time it was Lilith and Alistair and Azazael, following very distant orders from an entity so far beyond them that they could never touch him in a million years. The man whose nightmares Sam was currently soothing away. 

“Life can be a real bitch,” Sam said. 

Dean snorted. “Preaching to the choir- woah!” He slammed on the brakes. That threw all of them. Lucifer rolled out of Sam’s lap and onto the floor. Sam braced himself on the back on the front seat and Kevin ended up gagging when the seatbelt caught him part over the throat.

“What the hell, Dean?” Sam asked. He looked down at Lucifer who was blinking in confusion up at the ceiling. 

Dean got out of the car. “Cas?” he called, suddenly recognizing what had made him stop so fast. 

“Why’s he lying in the road?” Kevin asked. But Sam didn’t answer. 

Lucifer had frozen so completely for a moment. His only movement, was shallow breaths starting to rapidly become faster and faster. 

“Lucifer,” Sam said. He grabbed Lucifer up and manhandled him into his lap, holding him close. “Kevin, come sit on Lucifer’s other side.” 

“Oh, right,” Kevin said. He wrestled out of his seatbelt and ran around the car, quickly getting in on the other side. The back seat would be a bit of a tighter squeeze now, but for whatever reason Lucifer was absolutely terrified and Sam wasn’t going to let Cas sit in the back with them. 

Lucifer had his face pressed into Sam’s neck and shoulder. He was breathing too hard still, but it sounded more controlled and less like Lucifer was about to hyperventilate. 

“You’re safe,” Sam whispered to him, hugging Lucifer tight to him. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” 

Dean opened the passenger’s side front door, and Cas slipped into it. Cas turned to look at them. He was very bloody looking. He looked exhausted. But still his eyes got wide as he saw who was sitting, now trembling in Sam’s arms. 

“Lucifer?” Cas asked. 

Lucifer flinched and Sam hugged tighter. 

“He’s human now,” Sam said. “Crowley had him. He’s okay.” 

Cas was giving Sam a look of absolute disbelief. “Are you certain, Sam?” 

“Yes,” Sam said. He rubbed Lucifer’s back slowly, trying to calm the shaking. Seeing Lucifer like that made Sam feel sick to his stomach. He wasn’t certain he wanted to know what happened to Lucifer to make him like this. Whatever pride Lucifer had been building back up was shattered and Sam couldn’t help but fear that Lucifer wouldn’t be able to build it back.


	20. Chapter 20

Getting home was an exercise in frustration for everyone involved. Lucifer had been perfectly comfortable asleep in the back seat when they started. Well, it had been better than where he had been and he was so sleep low that just sleeping had been glorious. With Kevin in the back seat his options were limited. He could sit in Sam’s lap, which he had done for a while simply because he couldn’t will his body away from what it had perceived as his protector. He wondered if maybe that was from when Sam had him locked up and Sam was literally his only visitor, his only source of food, and really his only hope at all. 

But Sam was amazingly not well. Lucifer could feel the fever. He knew how Sam had tottered around trying to get them all into the car. And he would have coughing fits. Lucifer didn’t want to stay leaning his body against Sam’s chest, making it harder for him to breathe. So he’d moved to the middle seat, and leaned against Sam’s side and shoulder. 

Sam ended up leaning against the door with his head against the glass and his rolled just jacket, so Lucifer didn’t feel guilty about leaning against him. Also, Kevin had wiggled to lean against the opposite door, his legs tossed around Lucifer and Sam’s laps. Occasionally Lucifer stroked Kevin’s leg, needing the reassurance that he hadn’t gotten the prophet killed. 

Lucifer was absolutely exhausted for the last eight hours of the trip, but he wasn’t going to sleep with an angel in the car. It didn’t matter that it was Castiel, and Castiel wouldn’t do anything to him while Sam and Dean were there to make him back down. It didn’t matter that Castiel passed out pretty quickly too. It didn’t matter how weak and bloody Castiel was. 

Lucifer knew what he’d done to Castiel. Ion had never even met Lucifer until he began to torture him. Lucifer had caused personal injury to Castiel. Castiel had fought against him specifically. Castiel had died at his hand. Castiel had been cast out of Heaven for trying to fight him. Castiel had taken Sam out of the cage and away from him. 

Lucifer started to shiver whenever he thought of Castiel’s temper. Even curled up in Sam’s arms, listening to Castiel try and talk to Dean and be rebuked over and over by Dean’s gruff cold voice, and hearing how Castiel’s voice got weaker and weaker with each word he said, Lucifer still thought about the Castiel the soldier. 

He couldn’t be certain if Dean didn’t really know who Castiel was, or if he honestly felt that safe with Castiel, or if Dean didn’t truly know. No one, especially someone as fragile and Human and Dean should ever, ever talk to Castiel like that. Castiel had been involved with the battle where Lucifer was cast out. He’d been a garrison leader. He was massive and grand and everything a true angel should be. Lucifer knew down to his very existence that Castiel was what their Father had always wanted Lucifer to be. 

That was why Castiel had never been punished like Lucifer, no matter what Castiel did. 

Lucifer was bitter, but he was also afraid. 

Castiel, Sam and Kevin slept the other eight hours of the trip. Lucifer stayed very awake, knowing now to never sleep when an Angel was around. And Dean drove. He drove and drove and didn’t stop until they were outside the bunker. 

Dean didn’t even rouse Castiel. He opened the bunker door and then came back and scooped Castiel up like he didn’t weigh anything and carried him inside, looking at Castiel with a mix of sadness and fondness that Lucifer had never seen on his face. 

“He loves him,” Lucifer said. 

“What?” Sam asked. 

Lucifer had been left to rouse Kevin and Sam. Kevin had already gotten up and started shuffling toward the bunker. But Lucifer had needed extra time to get Sam out of the car. He’d had to wake Sam and have him sit up, then run around the car to open the door and help Sam in. 

“Castiel,” Lucifer said. “Dean loves him.” 

“Mmm, yeah,” Sam said. He dropped his head on Lucifer’s shoulder. The rush of moist warmth on Lucifer’s neck from Sam’s breathing made Lucifer blush. He tightened his grip and made sure to guide Sam in a straighter line toward the entrance. 

“How?” Lucifer asked. 

“Cas does everything Dean asks,” Sam said, yawning and nuzzling into Lucifer’s neck. Lucifer felt the heat rise in his face. “Just about. There’s not many people who aren’t related to us who’ve done that much… not even really family.” 

Lucifer got Sam across the threshold of the bunker. Sam pulled the door shut as they went. Then it was just a case of trying to figure out how best to navigate the stairs. That process took a few minutes as Lucifer wasn’t exactly feeling that steady on his feet. 

“Have they ever… you know?” Lucifer couldn’t even find words. Union between angels and humans was forbidden. At least the offspring of them were. Lucifer had killed plenty enough to know that. But then their Father wasn’t around that much anymore to smite those who disobeyed. 

“Talked about their feelings you mean?” Sam asked. Then he snorted. “How long have you known Dean? You think he ever says how he feels.” 

“Yeah, stupid question,” Lucifer admitted. 

They fell into silence, but Lucifer didn’t see that as a bad thing. It let him concentrate getting Sam to a room. Lucifer didn’t know where Kevin had gone off to, but he also didn’t much care so long as he stayed in the bunker. Lucifer could only worry about one person at a time, and right now it was Sam. 

“Okay, got to your room,” Lucifer said. 

“No,” Sam said. His tone was absolutely pouty, and when Lucifer turned his head to get a look at Sam’s face, he realized Sam actually had his lower lip out a bit. 

“Then what do you want, Sam?” Lucifer asked. 

“Your bed,” Sam said. “Gotta keep an eye on you. Promised I would protect you.” 

Lucifer felt oddly touched. He knew he should feel pissed at Sam. Sam needed to be taking care of himself. And how bad did Sam think he was that Sam being that unwell could protect Lucifer better than Lucifer could protect himself. 

“Okay,” Lucifer agreed. He kept a tight grip on Sam and guided Sam down to Lucifer’s room. He even let Sam open the door for him.   
It was a relief seeing the inside of his room. Truly, it was. Lucifer guided Sam to the bed and helped him sit. Lucifer worked on getting Sam’s shoes off while Sam got out of his button up. They both helped to get the pants of Sam. Then Lucifer stood and started to undress to his own tee shirt and boxers. 

Sam laid there and smiled at Lucifer all goofy. Lucifer smiled back at him. 

“What are you smiling at?” Lucifer asked. 

“You’re back. I thought I’d never see you again,” Sam said. “But you’re here.” 

“Yes, I am,” Lucifer said. He kicked off his shoes and pushed off his pants. It was a relief to push them off himself. 

“The last time I slept with you… next to you… I’m sorry,” Sam said. Lucifer tried to not let his voice catch. That was right before Sam left him to die. Still thinking about that hurt worse than many of the indignities he suffered under Crowley. 

Because with Crowley, being alone meant a moment of rest. With Sam it meant abandonment by the one who held his life in his hands. It meant loneliness. It meant cold and starvation and the knowledge that another person Lucifer was so certain had been made to love him actually held him in so little regard that Lucifer’s own life meant nothing to him. 

Crowley had hurt him worse than Sam. There were parts of Lucifer that Sam never would have been able to break. But there was a part of Lucifer that still hesitated, wanting to call Sam sir and be for forgiveness, lest Sam bend Lucifer over his knee, and take away Lucifer’s pride, again, just because he could. Lucifer has never gotten on his knees for anyone before Sam. Lucifer had gotten on his knees for Crowley and for a number of nameless, meaningless demons. Lucifer would never have done that without what Sam had done to him. Sam broke that part of him, the part even God could not. That part would never heal. That part would be with Lucifer forever. 

“I forgive you, Sam,” Lucifer said, forcing a smile. “I told you already that I forgive you.” 

“I know,” Sam said. “I know you did. But I knew, when you were gone that if I didn’t tell you why I did it then I’d regret it forever.” 

“You don’t need to tell me,” Lucifer said. His words were rushed a bit sharp. He smiled bitterly. He was standing in the middle of the room Dean had given him when Dean had rescued him. He was standing there in his underwear and socks. He pulled his shirt off, because it reminded him of Crowley and because he wanted to make Sam feel uncomfortable, and to see how thin Lucifer had become again. “I know that you did it because I was too much trouble to take care of.” 

“No Lucifer,” Sam said. And he just sounded so sad. He pushed himself up. His arms shook from the effort, and when he sat up he swayed from exhaustion and illness. “I did it because I was scared.” 

That made Lucifer pause. He stared at Sam for a moment, trying to find words for such a preposterous set of words. 

“Afraid of what?” Lucifer asked. “I couldn’t have done anything to you.” 

“It wasn’t… Lucifer, it was never about you,” Sam said. Then he let out a frustrated groan. “I woke up next to you feeling warm. I was happy to wake up next to you. I wanted to do it again. I realized that I wanted you.” 

Sam was giving Lucifer these huge, sad eyes. And Lucifer knew his eyes had gotten kind of huge. “You wanted me?” Lucifer asked. 

“Yes,” Sam said. “I knew I was attracted to you, that I liked how you needed me… and I realized how very wrong it all was. Because I shouldn’t be wanting you at all. I should hate you. I should want you dead, but I didn’t want that. And I also knew that with how much I’d hurt you that it would never be right to want you… that’s why I ran. I ran because I was a coward… you didn’t do anything.” 

Lucifer walked over to the bed and dropped down onto the mattress next to Sam. He felt a deep shock settle into his bones. He licked his lips and swallowed. “You… did that to me because you couldn’t hold back your big gay panic?” Lucifer asked, his voice very tight. 

He looked at Sam’s face, looking for some sign that he was wrong. But Sam just looked ashamed and nodded. Lucifer couldn’t even speak. 

There were such a swirl of emotions. Because Sam hadn’t abandoned him because of a lack of feeling. It wasn’t like his father. But still it was a different kind of pain. 

He let out a sad chuckle. “You broke me, Sam. You broke me in ways I didn’t even know was possible. I am so very different from who I was when you found me. And you did that.” 

“I know,” Sam said. He bit his bottom lip and just looked at Lucifer. “Did Crowley break you?” 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. “I don’t know how yet… but it’s not the first time I’ve been broken. Michael broke me. He did it when he cast me out. He did it again when he refused to walk away from the fight.” 

“I know,” Sam said. “I felt that.” 

“I know you did,” Lucifer said quietly. It’s how Sam was able to drag him down into Hell. “No one’s broken me as much as my father and that damned cage. Over and over. Broken and rebuilt. Over and over… And I’m different every time. I wonder when the breaking will be enough, when I’ll have paid enough.” 

“Now,” Sam said. “Right now. It’s done. It’s enough. It’s been enough.” 

Lucifer felt the painful twisted smile that his face pulled into. “Wasn’t that the point of what you were doing? Because it’s never going to be enough?” 

“I was wrong, Lucifer. I was wrong for hurting you,” Sam said. His voice was so earnest. He wanted Lucifer to believe him so much. His voice was pleading for Lucifer to understand. 

“No, Sam,” Lucifer said with as much kindness in his voice as he could bring. “You were wrong for hurting you for what you did. You did damage to your very being. You should apologize to yourself for the pain you caused you.” 

It was Sam’s turn for his face to pull into something painful. They stared at each other for a moment. Lucifer examined Sam’s face. He was wracked with guilt and illness, neither of which Lucifer could fix for him. 

Sam’s big arms reached out, wrapped around Lucifer and drew him into a tight hug. Lucifer allowed himself to be tucked into Sam’s chest. Angels would press together for comfort and love, as a way to feel their Father’s love for themselves and each other. Lucifer hadn’t been involved in such a close press since he was cast out. And here Sam was giving Lucifer what he needed. 

Lucifer knew he loved Sam then. The next words just sealed it. 

“I need to be sorry for hurting you,” Sam said. His forehead was resting against Lucifer’s sternum. So Lucifer could feel the thrum of Sam’s voice almost right in his heart. “You have a second chance at a new life, and you’ve been ripped apart to get it, and then you were given to me and I abused you… I was wrong, Lucifer. I was supposed to protect you and help you. And I broke you instead.” 

“I’m already broken, Sam. I already told you,” Lucifer said. He ran a hand through Sam’s hair. There was warmth there, and softness. But there was also the feeling of hair made unclean with sweat from Sam’s fever. He buried his nose in Sam’s hair and took a deep breath. It centered him. He was surrounded by Sam. Sam hadn’t just cast him aside. Sam had run from him, but now Sam had come looking for him. 

Finally it seemed like maybe he’d be given one thing he’d been promised.

“Yes,” Sam said. “But I shouldn’t have been one more thing to break you. I’m going to protect you. I’m going to keep you from being broken ever again.” He pulled away and Lucifer could see the true fire in Sam’s gaze. Lucifer didn’t doubt at all that Sam would do everything in his power to do what he promised. 

Lucifer nodded slowly. “I believe you, Sam.” 

Sam nodded. “Good.” 

Sam flopped back on the bed and dragged Lucifer with him, so Lucifer ended up sprawled over him. Lucifer couldn’t help the laugh that pulled out of him. He kicked the blankets down and then drew them up around them both. 

“Why are you staying with me tonight, Sam?” Lucifer mused. 

“I didn’t want you to be alone tonight,” Sam said. “And I don’t want to be alone… I hurt all over, and you make that… it’s okay. You’re back. You’re safe. I need to know you’re okay. I don’t want to wake up and have to worry that this is all just a dream.” 

Lucifer felt oddly touched. Sam seemed to know that Lucifer was afraid to go to bed alone. He needed sleep, but Castiel was still in the bunker. Having Sam there meant that Castiel wouldn’t harm Lucifer. It meant Lucifer could sleep. 

And Sam needed him. 

“Well, who knew the great Sam Winchester, conqueror of the Devil would need a security blanket,” Lucifer teased. He smirked and felt proud of himself for his words. He felt even more proud when Sam pulled the pillow out from under his own head and smacked Lucifer in the face with it. It made him laugh too. 

“Shut up,” Sam grumped, smacking Lucifer in the face with that pillow again. Lucifer just cackled. 

Lucifer was too busy tearing up from laughter to see how Sam smiled and put his pillow back, but he did feel Sam pull him against his chest and start to rub his back. He didn’t try to stop Lucifer’s laughter, which Lucifer appreciated. He hadn’t laughed in a long time. 

When he finished laughing he laid on Sam’s chest and just smiled. He felt lighter. He felt relieved. For a minute he had peace. And that peace let him sleep without fear or nightmares for that night. He needed that.


	21. Chapter 21

Lucifer woke up feeling far too hot and a lot like he had to pee. He blinked open his eyes and found Sam absolutely octopused around him. Lucifer wanted to feel good about, but he could feel Sam’s fever and he knew he couldn’t feel good until Sam was better. 

There was one person who could heal Sam. 

Lucifer sighed. Well, he had to face Castiel some time. 

Lucifer got up, careful disentangling himself from Sam. He grabbed a change of clothes and went to the bathroom to pee, wash his face and teeth and then pull on some clean clothes. It was an honest relief to be able to take care of his own needs again, and to be able to dress and undress himself on his own.

He took another moment to loiter before he went to locate Castiel. He knew that Castiel’s grace was injured or he wouldn’t have needed to sleep like that. So maybe Castiel couldn’t heal Sam yet, but he’d probably know the best course of action to take with Sam for the healing. 

Lucifer poked around. He knew Dean’s room already, and he knew that Castiel wouldn’t be in Sam’s room. He might be in Dean’s room, but Lucifer doubted it, since Dean was clearly unhappy with Castiel. So Lucifer was stuck opening doors and poking his head in, trying to see where Castiel might be. 

Dean had apparently dumped Castiel in the first room he’d come upon. It was further away from where everyone else had crashed. Lucifer also located Kevin, but he’d just carefully closed the door once he saw who was in the bed. When he opened the door to Castiel’s room, he noticed that his brother already had his eyes open and was looking at him. 

Castiel sat up. He was still in his clothes, but the blood was gone. Clearly Castiel had been able to heal on some level. Lucifer didn’t know what it was about Castiel that his true form just seemed to bleed out of those blue eyes of his. No other angel seemed to just exude that sense of self. It reminded Lucifer of what lay underneath. 

“Hello, Lucifer,” Castiel said, making Lucifer shiver. Lucifer gripped onto the doorframe to keep himself from running or dropping to the floor. 

“Hello, Castiel. It’s been a while,” Lucifer said, going for nonchalant.   
“Many years,” Castiel agreed. He turned his body so that he was facing Lucifer. “What are you doing here?” 

Lucifer wasn’t certain if Castiel meant here like in the bunker, or in the room with Castiel, or just out of the cage. Lucifer took a deep, steadying breath and just picked one. 

“I need you to heal Sam,” Lucifer said. 

Lucifer bit his bottom lip and gripped on tighter to the door frame. He knew he was shaking. He knew he looked scarred. He hated it, but he couldn’t help it. 

“What’s wrong with Sam?” Castiel asked. 

“Not a damn clue. No one will tell me,” Lucifer said. “But his fever is very high and he’s weak… And there’s nothing I can do for him, so please.” 

Castiel pushed himself up and walked over to Lucifer until he was standing right in front of him. Lucifer started to shake all over, so badly that even if Castiel had been human he wouldn’t have been able to not notice. Lucifer’s teeth started chattering and head heart would not stop pounding. 

Castiel touched a finger to Lucifer’s forehead. Lucifer’s fear spiked. He closed his eyes, expecting pain, or death. Instead a feeling of calm settled over him. 

“Ion hurt me as well,” Castiel said. “Not in the same way. But he turned far from what he once was.” 

Lucifer opened his eyes. He managed a glare that he didn’t feel. The soothing calm kept him from feeling it, but Lucifer knew that if he hadn’t felt so calm he would be furious at Castiel reading his mind like that. 

“It doesn’t matter. Any angel would treat me the same,” Lucifer said. There was no heat in his voice, though Lucifer knew there should be. He couldn’t even find the emotion enough to be annoyed, though he was aware he would be later. 

“I will not,” Castiel said. 

“Why?” Lucifer asked, surprised by Castiel’s answer. 

“Because Sam asked me not to,” Castiel said. “And Dean and Sam allow you to be here. And because you asked me to heal Sam, even though I could tell you were terrified the first time you saw me. You care about him more than you care about your safety or your fear or your pride… which is something of a miracle… I want to see what you’ll become.” 

“If you hadn’t made me feel like this I would be trying to punch you,” Lucifer stated. He was certain he was wearing a dreamy smile. Really, the calm just made it easier to think without the clawing, pressing, drowning feeling of fear. It made it easier for him to realize that this did benefit him. It also made it easier to see that Castiel wasn’t angry. Just curious, and a little proud. 

“I know, but you would break you hand on my face, so it is better this way,” Castiel said. He looked amused. Lucifer’s brain told him he should feel sour about it, but he really didn’t. “I wasn’t certain when I saw you, but Sam said you are human. I believe that you are, and that maybe it’s for the better.” 

“I’m not certain that’s true. But it’s what I have now, and It’s not… the worst thing I have ever experienced.” Certainly Sam never would have held him so close if Lucifer had been an angel. 

Castiel nodded. “Show me where Sam is. I’ll see what I can do. But my grace isn’t healing as quickly as I’d hoped.” 

“I expected as much,” Lucifer said, leading Castiel down to his room. “But I know that you will probably know what to do even if you can’t heal him right now.” 

Castiel made a noise of agreement. He followed after Lucifer. Lucifer opened the door to his room and let Castiel go in. Sam was still asleep, very heavily. Lucifer stepped in and quietly shut the door. Castiel went and placed his hand on Sam’s face. 

Lucifer stood back, letting Castiel work. He could only see Castiel’s back. But he expected that Castiel would be done quickly. But the time just stretched and stretched. Lucifer couldn’t feel worried past the artificial calm Castiel had given him. So he did probably wait a longer time before speaking. 

“What’s wrong?” Lucifer asked after many long moments of silence. 

“Sam’s completely destroyed inside. I’m not completely certain who he is even able to keep moving. But He is very alive. And yet there’s nothing I can do for him.” Castiel turned around and looked at him. “Hello, Dean.” 

Lucifer felt confused. Then he turned and jumped. Apparently Dean had come in, but Lucifer had been so busy focusing on Castiel and Sam that he hadn’t even noticed Dean had come in. 

“You said he’s destroyed inside?” Dean asked, his voice cracking just a bit on the middle syllable of ‘destroyed’. His voice was husky, but not from sleep or over use. He was scared. 

“Dean, what is Sam doing?” Lucifer asked. 

Dean licked his lips and looked distrustfully at Lucifer. Lucifer pulled on a glare that he wasn’t feeling. He didn’t care. Something was happening with Sam. 

“Dean, I’m human and practically helpless. I was captured and tortured by demons and an angel. Who else could I go to? And why would I ever? I wouldn’t be safe with anyone else. You know my self-preservation is at least functional. So just tell us.” 

Dean gave Lucifer and assessing look. Then he sighed. “Sam’s trying to close the gates of Hell.” 

“Excuse me, he’s doing what?” Lucifer asked. 

“Look, you know how much damage demons have done,” Dean said. 

“Would it be locking up hell so no one else could get in?” Castiel asked. “Because that would make it difficult to deal with souls that do not belong in heaven.” 

“And really fuck up the world,” Lucifer added. “But maybe it’s just closing the gates so no one else can get out. But what about the demons on the surface.” 

“We don’t really know that,” Dean said. “But it would make it easier if demons couldn’t just crawl out of Hell whenever they felt like it. And once we got them out of a body they’d be gone.” 

“True,” Lucifer said. He looked back at Sam. “But will the trial just let Sam go?” Lucifer asked. 

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “But having to wait so long between them is just making him worse and worse. So when it’s done the Cas can heal him, right?” 

“I don’t know,” Castiel said. “You said it gets worse with the time you have to wait?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said. He looked past Castiel to the bed where Sam was. “We have to figure out how to cure a demon.” 

“Cure a demon,” Lucifer said. “Well, that should be super easy,” he said with as much sarcasm as he could put in his voice. 

“It is supposed to not be an easy under taking,” Castiel said. 

“Fine,” Lucifer said. “It’s fine. We’ll deal with it. There should be someone with Sam at all times to care for his health and the rest of us can search for… whatever. The bunker has a lot of records of exorcisms and experiments. Maybe there is something here.” 

“Here would be the best place to start looking,” Dean admitted. 

Lucifer looked over at Sam. But so did Dean and Castiel. For one reason or another, all of them cared about Sam, and all of them were worried. 

“Okay,” Lucifer said. “Castiel needs to be resting as well, he’s still not fully healed.” 

“I can stay with Sam,” Castiel offered. 

“Only if you’re going to rest,” Dean said in a stressed tone. 

“Dean and I will start looking. I’ve been going through a lot of old artifacts and files, trying to make lists of what there is. Between the two of us we may be able to get through his more quickly,” Lucifer said. 

“If you see Kevin, tell him to eat something and then go back to bed,” Dean told Castiel. Then he grabbed Lucifer’s arm and dragged him out. 

Lucifer followed Dean down to the records room. The card catalogues were helpful, but they took quite a while to get through. 

“We really need to update these,” Dean said. “Put them on a computer.” 

“Well, it’ll be a project for Sam and I once he’s healed,” Lucifer said. He pulled out one of the draws of card catalogues. “He will be able to heal, once this is over, right?” 

Dean stopped what he was doing, completely frozen for a moment. “Yeah, should be fine,” he said like he actually believed it, but Lucifer was certain Dean didn’t. 

“What happens if it’s too much for him?” Lucifer asked. 

“Well, we’re the friggin Winchesters. When have you ever known us to stay down or stay dead?” Dean asked with a weak smile. He turned a looked at Lucifer. “Thanks… by the way, for taking care of Sammy.” 

“I love him,” Lucifer said. “I was promised him when I was locked away. I’ve waited most of my existence for him. And he wants me near him… of course I would want to give him what he wants and needs.” 

Dean laughed nervously. “Okay, just next time try and make your confession a little less homo.” 

Lucifer snorted. “You care about such things. I do not.” He pulled out the card he needed. “Alright, here’s one. You get to do leg work,” he said, handing Dean the card. 

“Oh man, this is in a sub-basement of a sub-basement,” Dean grumped. 

“It’s good for your old man legs to get some exercise. Now scoot,” Lucifer said before turning back to the card box. 

He heard leave, grumbling all the way. That was fine. Dean was clearly having a big gay panic of his own. Lucifer didn’t have time to deal with that. He worried that maybe whatever was keeping Sam alive would suddenly stop and they’d have no way to help Sam at all. They needed to finish this last trial as soon as possible, or else they might really lose Sam forever this time.


	22. Chapter 22

“I want to state for the record that I’m really not a fan of this plan,” Lucifer said. 

“I know you aren’t,” Sam said, offering Lucifer an exhausted smile. “But we’re almost done. It’s almost over.” 

Lucifer let out a sigh and looked over at Crowley, who was tied to a chair in the middle of the church, quietly singing “Changes”. They’d needed to find a demon they could cure. The first attempt with Abaddon had apparently been a massive failure. But Lucifer didn’t witness it because Sam had insisted that he stay in the bunker. And honestly, Lucifer really hadn’t wanted to leave the bunker. 

This was different. Castiel had run off again, and someone needed to stay with Sam through this. While Dean insisted he would be there, Lucifer knew that something could come up. As much as Lucifer hadn’t wanted to leave the bunker, this time he’d insisted. 

And he had been right. Castiel had turned up begging for help, and Dean had run off, leaving Lucifer alone with his torturer and an increasingly sick Sam. Lucifer wanted to bundle Sam up and run off. But Sam wouldn’t accept it, and Lucifer didn’t have the power to do it without Sam’s consent. 

“He already bit you,” Lucifer pointed out, looking down at the bandages that Lucifer had carefully applied himself. 

“Yeah, well,” Sam said. He looked down at his arms and Lucifer looked down to. They were glowing, like the spell of trials could sense just how close Sam was. Lucifer clenched his hands into a fist. 

He was about to say something when the ground started to shake, and the ground began to split right up to the devil’s trap, cracking it open. 

“Shit,” Lucifer hissed. 

Crowley smirked. “What? Did you think that you could kidnap the King of Hell and no one was going to notice?” 

The doors burst open and Lucifer stepped in front of Sam. Sam could maybe get away from whomever had come to rescue Crowley. But Sam would need time. 

To Lucifer’s surprise, only one demon walked in, and it wasn’t someone Lucifer recognized. But given that she had stitches around her head and wrists 

“Shit,” Sam breathed. 

“Abaddon?” Crowley asked. “I was told you were dead.” 

“Shit,” Lucifer breathed.

“Nope,” Abaddon in, striding in with all the majesty a Knight of Hell believed themselves to be deserving. Lucifer shifted his shoulders back and stood up straighter. 

“I didn’t know you served a false King,” Lucifer said, stepping forward. 

Abaddon wrinkled her nose. “Who are you?” she asked like she could hardly believe that a human would dare to talk to her that way, which was probably exactly how she was feeling. He saw her begin to raise her hand to smite him. 

“After all the times you’ve followed me into battle, this is the greeting I get?” Lucifer demanded. 

Abaddon faltered. “Lucifer?” she asked. “But… but you’re human.” 

“You know father always had a very wicked sense of humor,” he said. He plucked at his tee shirt as if disgusted, like he hadn’t stolen it from Sam’s dresser and was wearing it like armor. Like he wasn’t absolutely terrified of what Abaddon would do next. 

“You’re human,” she said again. 

“Why do you think I’m the King?” Crowley snarked from his chains. It touched on a memory, and Lucifer shivered, trying to banish the memories. When he met Abaddon’s eyes he knew it was exactly the wrong thing to do. And Crowley just kept talking. “He’ll do anything you tell him to just to make it stop hurting. He’s Hells favorite whore right now.” 

“Keep your mouth shut,” Sam snapped. 

Abaddon waved her hand, which had still been half raised from a moment before when she’d been considering smiting Lucifer. Sam flew through the window to the outside. 

“Sam!” Lucifer shouted. He tried to turn, but found himself completely immobile. He focused on glaring at Abaddon instead. 

“Is it true what this little worm says,” Abaddon asked, walking right up close to Lucifer. She ran one long nail slowly down his cheek and chin. 

“I am your King!” Crowley protested with bluster. 

“You’re the parasite that filled in during the gap,” Abaddon said. 

“Do yourself a favor and shut up while the adults have a conversation,” Lucifer added. He didn’t take his eyes off Abaddon. She was smirking. 

“Well, let’s nice to see you still have a little fire in you,” she said. “I think I may keep you as a prize.” She turned her gaze to Crowley and walked away from Lucifer. But Lucifer was still immobilized. “I asked around. Seems some lowly salesman had taken over. I never realized how pathetic your armies rally were, Lucifer. They never were the same after the Knights died.” 

“If you think that no one is going to come for me,” Crowley said, trying to look bigger and more intimidating while still chained to a chair. “The full force of Hell will come raining down on your head.” 

“Oh please,” Abaddon scoffed. “If that were true, they’d be here already. But there’s no one. Just plain, little old me.” 

She practically giggled before looking back at Lucifer. “If you were a true leader you wouldn’t have lost a prize of your reign. And you wouldn’t be dependent on someone to come rescue you. Oh well, this is goodbye.” 

She raised her hand as if to rip out Crowley’s heart, only stop when Sam tossed something wet on her. 

“Goodbye,” he breathed. He was cut up and bleeding, but he’d clearly gone and gotten the holy oil from the car, especially when he tossed matches on Abaddon and she went up in flame. 

As soon as she burst into fire Lucifer could feel himself able to move. He started shaking as he lowered himself to the ground. He watched Abaddon’s smoke leave the body and leave the church. She’d be back after she’d healed up. She may not be killable, but she could certainly be hurt. 

“Lucifer?” Sam asked. 

“I’m fine. Seal up devil’s trap,” Lucifer breathed. 

It was fine. His legs weren’t really working, but they were both alive and Lucifer could breath. He wasn’t having a panic attack. He may later, but for now he wasn’t. 

Lucifer just breathed while Sam filled in thee broken circle. Sam walked over to his and rested his hand on Lucifer’s head. 

“Are you okay?” 

“No,” Lucifer said. He shakily pushed himself up. “But we have work to do. I’ll make a larger trap around the church and the car. You just finish this,” he said, nodding to Crowley. 

Sam’s hand came up to cup Lucifer’s face. Lucifer tilted his head into the touch and rested a hand on Sam’s arm. Soft touch, caring touch. The touch of someone who mattered. Lucifer mattered to Sam. Lucifer had to hold onto those thoughts tightly. 

“If you’re sure,” Sam said. 

“Certain,” Lucifer said shortly. He pulled away and headed outside to begin making the larger devil’s trap to keep Abaddon out.

* * *

Lucifer sat outside the church and stared up at the sky. He felt something zinging through his bones. It made it hard for him to stay inside while Sam kept trying to cure Crowley. Lucifer had left the church door open so he could hear if something were wrong. He rubbed at his arms. That tingling feeling just was not going away and Lucifer couldn’t make heads or tails of it. 

There was the sound of wings and Castiel and Dean arrived. 

“I’m not wrong. I’m going to save my home,” Castiel said and then flew off again. 

“Cas, dammit!” Dean shouted. Then he turned and focused on Lucifer. “Where’s Sam? How far along is he with the trial?” 

“Almost done,” Lucifer said, standing up. “What’s going on?” 

“We have to stop him,” Dean said, pushing past Lucifer into the church. “Sam! Stop!” Dean shouted. 

Lucifer rushed in after Dean. Sam looked the worst Lucifer had ever seen him look. It was sweating and sick and was looking emaciated. It was amazing how not seeing Sam for five minutes and how much the trials were tearing him down. 

“Sam, you have to stop. The trials are going to kill you if you finish them,” Dean said. He sounded absolutely desperate. 

Sam stared at Dean for a moment. Then he blinked. “So?” 

“So?” Dean demanded, his voice practically cracking. “What part of you dead do you not get?” 

“He doesn’t care,” Lucifer said. “Can you see?” He could see. 

“What do you mean he doesn’t care?” Dean asked, looking at Lucifer before turning back to look at Sam. 

“I don’t,” Sam said. “Dean, this is my chance to… to fix everything.” 

“Fix… Sam, we stopped the Apocalypse. We got broke the control of the Leviathans. We’ve faced the end of the world and won. Why do you need to fix anything?” 

Sam’s eyes moved to Lucifer and he swallowed like he was going to cry. Lucifer felt his fist clench at his side. He could see the self-loathing just bleeding out of Sam’s every pore. And Lucifer had been there before, in his darkest moments in the cage. And there was nothing Lucifer could do in that moment to make Sam not feel the way he did. 

“Do you not see?” Sam asked quietly. “How… wrong I am? Yeah, we stopped the end of the world. But to what end? People are still getting hurt by demons and Leviathans and everything else out there. It doesn’t matter what I did before, because it turns out that I can’t stop being wrong. It wasn’t the demon blood that made me unclean, Dean. It was just… me.” 

“Sam,” Lucifer started. 

“I let Kevin get captured and hunted. I didn’t even try to find you. I believed Ruby. I let Lucifer out the first time. And then I couldn’t even do anything right with him. I’ve let everyone… everyone down so many times… but especially you.” 

“Me?” Dean asked. “Sammy, you’re not making sense?” 

“You wanna know what I was confessing in there?” Sam asked. “What I had to purge myself of? It’s all that stuff, all those things I’ve done wrong being so certain I was right. Because you know Dean. You’ve always know. There’s a reason why you were Michael’s vessel and I wasn’t…. I’m just wrong, Dean.”

“No,” Lucifer said. He crossed the distance between them in seconds. He wrapped his arms around Sam and hugged him tight. “You weren’t my vessel because you’re wrong. You were made for me because… because my father wanted to give me some small hope through all that darkness. He made a soul so good that they’d be able to care about me… Father knows my own brother couldn’t… You weren’t my vessel because you’re evil. It’s because you’re far, far better than man.” 

“Sammy,” Dean started. “We’ve been fighting the good fight. And we’ll keep doing it. But you can’t… you can’t just kill yourself. There is nothing that has ever… there’s nothing anywhere ever, or that’s ever gonna be that’s going to me more important to me than you are. And I think Lucifer would agree with me on this. We need you.” 

“But I can end this,” Sam said weakly. “I’m so close.” 

“It’s us being selfish,” Lucifer said. “Not you.” 

“You know how I imploded the last time you died,” Dean said. “I kick started the end of the world. God only know what I’ll do this time… Just please Sam. Just give it up. We don’t need it. We just need you.” 

Sam looking between them. Lucifer tightened his grip and just hoped that was enough to get through the famous Winchester stubbornness. Lucifer’s skin was itching all over and he felt like his teeth were buzzing, but he pushed past it because Sam was more important. 

Sam slowly wrapped his arms around Lucifer too and squeezed back just a little, but it was enough to make Lucifer give a sigh of relief. 

“Okay,” Sam said. “I give it up.” 

“Let it go,” Lucifer said. 

“I’m letting go of the trials,” he said quietly. 

“Look, there you go,” Dean said. Lucifer pulled back to see what Dean was talking about, to see the glow in Sam’s arms flicker for a moment and then go out. 

For one glorious, perfect moment they were all smiling. Then Sam let out a wounded scream and collapsed. Lucifer grabbed him, but Sam’s weight jolted his knees and they both tumbled to the ground. 

“Sam!” Dean shouted.

Dean ran over have helped to haul Sam up. Lucifer felt tears coming to his eyes, but he couldn’t tell why. His skin didn’t just itch, he hurt all over and his teeth were buzzing so loud he could barely hear Dean tell Lucifer to help him. 

Lucifer grabbed onto Sam’s other side and helped Dean drag Sam out to the car. Lucifer tripped when they got to the Impala, again causing the three of them to tumble to the ground. Lucifer could vaguely hear Dean cursing his name and shouting for Castiel. 

But Lucifer was sobbing. It felt like he was being ripped in two. He felt phantom pain. There were hands reaching into his being and pulling out the best part of him, ripping off his wings, throwing him down, down, down, until he drove through the earth to its center, into hell and down into the cage where it locked tight shut. 

He gasped and opened his eyes, seeing bright spots starting to appear. The pain and the feeling faded and he was human again. Normal. Average. But that didn’t stop his tears. Because he could see them, his siblings, being cast down. He watched as a nearby angel landed in the lake by the church, their wings having been shorn off by the fall.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked. 

“The angels,” Dean said. 

“Heaven is falling,” Lucifer whispered. All of them were falling. “Heaven’s been sealed. Oh Father, what have you let them do?”


End file.
